The Pounding Rain
by Callioope
Summary: After five years, Ginny Weasley remains hopelessly devoted to Harry. When his heart is broken, she brings it upon herself to mend it, but in doing so she must put Harry's own happiness above her own. [COMPLETE!]
1. Rain

**Author's Note: **Draft 3. Or four? Eh, lost count. 'The Way You Look Tonight' lyrics copyrighted by Frank Sinatra (?). Poetry at the beginning is mine though.

Consider this an AU fic. I wrote it before _Order of the Phoenix _came out. Basically, all you need to pretend is Harry and Cho stayed together. And I seriously need to reread the entire series...

**Disclaimer: **HP characters don't belong to me. I'm not making money off this. And I'm innocent and lovable and I'm a really good student...

The Pounding Rain  
Chapter One  
Rain

_Can you feel the pounding rain?  
__It's beating on your back  
__Can you feel the relentless wind?  
__It's tearing you apart_

Cool, refreshing rain – a gentle drizzle as revitalizing as a warm shower. I breathed in the moist, fall air and sighed. "I love humidity," I declared to the emptiness around me. I didn't care if I'd catch a cold – this was where I belonged.

Sure, the invariable gray stones and shadows around me created somewhat of a dismal setting – cold gray castle walls on three sides, and in front of me, nothing but the glassy reflection of gray clouds on the surface of the lake. My own alcove – a small inlet down at the corner of the castle. I'd never met anyone here, though I'd been coming since I discovered it two years ago.

I leaned back against the wall, very close to the small, wooden door. It was a pathetic part of the castle, really. No artistic dream had inspired the construction of my little haven.

Fifth year at Hogwarts. I'm only fifteen, and now You-Know-Who is back, and he wasn't just a diary character now. Three years ago, I hadn't even been able to face him. I'm sincerely doomed if I ever come face-to-face with him now. Supposedly, that shouldn't happen. Supposedly, Hogwarts' tightest security and staff will keep everyone safe and cozy.

Yeah, right.

Not that we'd be safer at home, anyway. Given all thought – Hogwarts probably _was _the safest place for all of us.

Until this year, I'd never been much for studying. But given the dangers of You-Know-Who's return, it couldn't hurt a bit to study a little more extra. A lot of students had gone to their books. Maybe it helped distract them, too. And no one could party much these days, anyway. Too much fear and hurt caged their hope for happiness. Worry – panic – dread. Prayers that _that _letter will _never _come… 'please, not my family, don't let them get my family…'

If Hogwarts was safer for us physically, it was Hell for our sanity.

I'd been going back to the Gryffindor Dormitory after dinner, but my feet had gotten sidetracked, and I'd ended up here again. Well, whatever. A good break is always welcomed.

I don't let anyone know anymore, because it's ridiculous for them to know, and ridiculous for me to continue, but I really do love Harry. They used to write it off as a silly school girl crush – okay, so at the beginning, it was. But I know him better now. I see the way his eyes light up when he's thinking about Quidditch – the way the corner of his mouth tilts slightly, even if he's been having a bad day. Sometimes, when he thinks no one is watching, he twirls his hair in his fingers. It's not like it could get any messier, anyway. And when he's with Ron and Hermione, just lounging around, laughing, there's a slow way he smiles – a genuine smile. Almost like the sunrise… warm, rising gently. Beautiful.

I could get carried away.

But no one would ever know, because as far as they're concerned, Ginny Weasley is over Harry Potter and always will be. Sometimes, I wished it were true. Usually, though, I loved the feeling, and was too scared to ever let it go. My security blanket.

Being in love – even if it's unrequited – shouldn't drag a person down. Yes, when I see Harry with Cho – he's seeing her now – it pangs a little. But my heart's too busy leaping into my throat to notice.

"And that laugh that wrinkles your nose," A Muggle song – Frank Sinatra – but so fitting. "It touches my foolish heart." I stood and stretched. "Cause I love you… just the way you look tonight."

I reached for the door and – voices.

Students. I pressed my ear to the door, curious, feeling like a spy, but not caring.

"I… I can't… I mean – I just… I'm so sorry…"

Cho Chang. And her escort?

"Cho," gentle, compelling. "What are you getting at?"

Harry. But the quiver in his voice betrayed him – he knew what was come. At least, he had an idea.

Cho sounded very close to tears. "I wish I didn't have to do this. I just… I wish this were easier. I… I'm babbling, aren't I?" A sniff, a sharp, shaky intake of breath. "I know I was never the best… girlfriend, and I really did like you. "But I feel like I'm just a distraction sometimes… and you _seem _distracted from me, at other times, too… and… and I know, given… who you are… that you're… well, you don't _need _a distraction right now. It's – dangerous."

Harry cleared his voice. Twice. "This is my fault, then." He was looking at the floor – I couldn't see it, but in my mind, I knew he would be. He does that when he's nervous. Avoids eye contact. "If that's the way you feel…"

Desperate. Pity-me routine. His heart was breaking but he'd never admit it. He loved her, or liked her a _lot_, and I knew so well – his long glances at her were unmistakably familiar.

"…so this is it, then?"

He sounded so weak. What did he look like? Did his eyes give away his pain? Was he crying? _No, of course not_.

"I'm sorry," Cho whispered – her voice was dry. As if she hadn't spoken in ages. "Harry… I don't _want _to hurt you, but there are certain ways a person feels that they can't help. I don't love you, Harry."

Brutal. Necessary.

"I won't lie to you."

She was gaining strength. But Harry was losing it… no attempt to interrupt. _What would I see if I opened the door?_

"Love isn't something you choose, it's something you _feel _in your heart. You can't help it, you can't stop it, and you can't start it or make believe. When it is real – you just… know it. Do you know it Harry?"

Harry didn't speak.

"I didn't think so."

Regret. Gray regret tinted her fragile-as-china voice.

A long pause before, "I'm sure there's someone else out there for you. I believe there's someone for everyone."

"Tcha." Doubt.

Part of me wanted to fling open the door and brilliantly announce, "It's me, Harry! _I'm _the one she's talking about! Sure, you've been blind, but I forgive you. I'm here for you."

But the stronger part of me kept me still.

A very long pause, and then Cho's voice seemed faraway. "You're a good person, Harry. You know that. You don't deserve any more pain. Don't waste your heartbreak on me. You'll find her soon. She may be just around the next corner… you know."

She was gone – so I assumed – and I flung open the door too dramatically. Harry stood still, as if moving would shake the two broken pieces of his heart apart. He didn't even hear me as I approached.

"Harry…"

Not even a glance. "Not now, Ginny."

Dismissed. Dismissed, and he was so sad that for once I was not glad to see him. For a moment I stood still in time, and then turned back towards the door. Towards my haven of dreary gray walls. It was all I had known, all I knew, and all I ever would.

**PS A/N: **The next chapter is not consistent with this draft. I made a cut for dramatic purposes. Basically what I cut was Ginny poking very angrily at her eggs (eggs are very offensive you know and deserve proper retribution) and Ginny decides to set up Harry and Cho again because (aww) he's ever-so-sad. I do intend to move all this to the next chapter though... so stay ... tuned?


	2. Alone

**Author's Note:** (this is the same AN from Chapter One) Rereading this before sending it to Fiction Alley, I decided that it was in need to a Major Edit.  So here it is, new and improved!  Thank you all my wonderful reviewers… what would I do without you?  Also, I hope that Harry is more In-Character in this version (I'm aware that he isn't, but I'm hoping that he's better).  Oh, and for future references: there are seven chapters planned, about 6 of them with rough drafts finished, and at the time I'm writing this (December 12, 2002) there are only four edited drafts that I'm posting today.  Thank you for listening!

Disclaimer: I am not in any way affiliating with Ms. Rowling, and all the characters in this story belong to her.  I'm not making any money of all this (as I only possess a measly $20 and something cents) and I don't mean any harm! The Pounding Rain  
Chapter Two  
Alone  
  
_But you're all alone in the world  
With no hand to hold on to  
And no one to guide you  
You you're doing just fine_

For a while after the incident in the Great Hall, I avoided everyone, including Hermione.  I kept to myself for about a week after that 'incident', taking shortcuts or "long-cuts" in the hallways just to evade having to see Harry.  However, I was more afraid about meeting Ron somewhere, because I was uncertain of his reaction to all those private thoughts of mine I had just blurted out for anyone to hear.  Ron would be surprised by those thoughts.  Though he never suspected them, he would completely understand any underlying or implied ideas that Harry wouldn't understand.  Well, maybe.  You never know with Ron, sometimes he can completely surprise you.

Hermione, Ron, Harry and I were not the only witnesses of my confrontation.  Other people had looked up from their breakfast to see what Harry and I were arguing about, and passersby had stopped to take a glance.  Which was why I stayed in my dormitories once all my classes were over, only coming out to eat.  I became a hermit devoted to my studies.  Except, I wasn't just studying.  I was trying to figure out a way to get Harry and Cho back together.

Originally, my plan was to have them write a note about their feelings, but then I realized that it couldn't be that simple if Cho didn't love Harry.  After hours of indecision, I resolved to confront her in the hallway if I ever passed her.  The one flaw in this plan was that I never saw her, except for at dinner, but there were too many people there.  Besides, the chances of Harry being there at the same time were too great, and I couldn't talk to Cho about him if he was there to watch.

And then, Saturday came, and just to my luck, there was a Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor match.  I could stop Cho after the match and talk to her.  It shouldn't be too hard to find her.  I was still avoiding Ron and Hermione, so I went to breakfast late.  By the time I was done eating, the match had already started, and I was in a rush to get there.  If I had gotten their earlier, Ron and Hermione would see me sitting by myself in the stands, but if I arrived late, sneaking in and finding a seat next to Neville, they wouldn't see me.  I just hoped Neville hadn't decided to sit near Ron and Hermione this match.

Walking the empty path to the Quidditch field, I could already hear the screams from the stands.  Something exciting was happening, and in anticipation to share the excitement, I rushed towards the stands and found the closest empty seating, forgetting about Neville.

It wasn't a good thing that Harry and Cho had to play against each other only a week after their break up.

Cho seemed to be in distress on how to act towards Harry.  She was trying to be nice to him, but he was just ignoring her.  Still, no matter how distraught he looked, his mind lingered on Cho instead of the game.  He needed to concentrate.

The Snitch was the perfect distraction, and once he spotted it hovering above one of the goalposts, he sped towards it and raced away from Cho.  She zipped after him.  By the time Harry reached the Snitch, it was spiraling down around the goalpost, Harry following the swirling pattern.  Cho, strategically speaking, should have just gone straight down and she could have caught the Snitch first.  But Cho was too distracted and tense to notice or care.

Both of them barely remembered to tilt their brooms up in order to avoid crashing into the ground.  The Snitch was still plainly in their sight, though it was hard to spot it from the stands and by now Cho had given up stressing over Harry and was finally concentrating on the game.  The Snitch was zooming across the field in zigzags and complicated patterns, with Cho and Harry never far behind.  Then, it spontaneously flicked upwards towards the Gryffindor stands.  Then someone sat down in the empty seat next to me and interrupted my concentration on watching the game.

I didn't have to turn before Ron spoke.

"Ginny, I've been meaning to ask you, what was that all about in the Great Hall?"

I had a feeling that he might already know, or at least he had an idea, but wanted to hear the answer from me.  Well, for once he'd decided to ask before going on about wild assumptions.  I pretended to be more interested in the match than the conversation.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, putting on an innocent expression.

This only irritated Ron.  "About all that love junk."  I narrowed my eyes a little bit.  _Love junk?_

"Don't you believe in love?" I asked, still trying to pretend innocence, but all the while wondering what his answer would be.

"You know what I'm talking about," Ron uttered.  "What was all that about '_I've been nothing but a shadow to you. But a shadow always sticks with its master_' and all that stuff about love?"

I sighed, turning to face him.  "I said that because it seemed like the right thing to do."  _Actually, it hadn't, but then Ron doesn't now that and I don't need him second-guessing my motives.  Especially when I didn't even realize them myself…_

"Maybe then, but didn't you realize – "

"I stick by my decision," I interrupted, not standing to hear more about how insensitive my words had been.  I already knew that.  "Harry needed some sense knocked into him.  Only, he never seems to get the message…" I glanced down towards the field to see Harry and Cho still chasing after the Snitch.  It seemed like it was bewitched, Harry would have caught it by now…

"What do you mean 'needed sense knocked into him'?" he nearly yelled, "He's heartbroken, and you yell at him _more?  And you say you _love _him?"_

There.  I heard it, finally.  I love Harry.  Do I?  "Love isn't always telling a person that they're right, is it?  It's helping them.  Whether the help seems nice or harsh at the time is anyone's opinion."  I hesitated, wondering if I should tell Ron my plan or not.  "So, he's still pining after Cho?"

"Of course he is."  Ron scowled, and sat back in his chair, and turned to watch the game.

"What do you think of them?  Do you think that it's true love between them?"  Ron knew Harry better than I did; they were best friends.  I needed to know what he thought, and while he was still being civil and not teasing me for liking Harry, this was the best time to find out.

"Well, whatever.  I've never thought about fate, or any of that stuff he said Cho was talking about."

"Not even with Hermione?"

Ron hesitated.  "We're only in Hogwarts, it's only our sixth year."

"Yeah, you're right," I scolded, "You'll be graduating next year.  Do you have any idea of what you're going to do with your life?"  If he wasn't going to tell me what he thought, then I might as well try to switch the conversation over to him.  

"Well, actually, I was planning on -- Hey, wait a minute," Ron narrowed his eyes.  "Weren't we just talking about _you?"_

I sighed and looked down, wringing my hands in my lap.  It was strange and unnerving talking about this with Ron.

"I just have one more question, actually," Ron admitted.  "What are you going to do now that Harry knows you like him?"

I looked back up at him quizzically.  "He knows?"  My stomach was doing somersaults.

"Well, he knows it's more than some silly old crush now."  Ron squinted at me.  "You know, you've changed a lot since your first days at Hogwarts."

"I think we all have, especially now that You-Know-Who is out there.  We all have this sudden value of life, I suppose." I glanced back up at the Quidditch game, to find that Cho and Harry had lost sight of the Snitch.  "But, Ron, do you think you could do me a favor?"

"Sure, anything."  He paused.  "Well, _almost _anything."

"I was thinking about trying to get Harry and Cho back together."  Ron's jaw dropped and his eyes bulged at this.  "And I'm not really sure how to do it."

Ron coughed.  "You want to set them up together?" he repeated, bewildered.  "Honestly, Ginny, I know that Harry is upset, but that's what happens after a break up.  He'll get over it eventually.  It probably wouldn't work."

"It has to!" I blurted out.  "I mean, you know… I can't stand to see him so depressed…" I sank back into my chair, blushing.  Ron laughed.

"I never realized how head over heels you were," he grinned.

"Well, it took you long enough to figure out how head over heels _you _were for Hermione," Ginny teased back.

"Haha.  Well, Ginny," Ron stopped laughing and peered at me as though he were meeting a new person and trying to decide whether they were good or bad.  "I think I could help you." He smiled, looking extremely suspicious.  "Just let me talk to Hermione, first.  I'll get back to you on that after the match."  He left, disappearing into the crowd.  I turned back to watch the match, and back to the cheering of the crowd as the Gryffindor Chasers just scored another ten points.

Just at that moment, Harry spotted the Snitch.  He immediately started for it, zooming across the field while Cho lagged behind.  Once again, he was forced on a while goose chase.  The Snitch abruptly started upwards and towards my side of the stadium.  In fact, I was sure it was heading straight towards me - especially when, once it was level with the stadiums, it made a beeline straight towards my seat.  I could barely follow it, and it seemed to have disappeared when I felt something cold in my hand.  Looking down, I realized it was the Golden Snitch.  Its wings flapped up and down so fast they couldn't be seen.  _What is the Snitch doing out of bounds?_

"Watch out!" someone cried.  I barely had time to look up before a blur of green eyes and jet black hair crashed into me.  I fell into unconsciousness.

})({

When I awoke, I was surrounded by the bright and sterilized look of Madam Pomfrey's hospital wing.  Blinking, I sat up and looked around me.  Harry lay in the next bed, still unconscious.  Other than Madam Pomfrey and us, the hospital wing was empty.  The kind nurse noticed I was awake.

"Well, that was quite a crash, Miss Weasley!" she said, coming over to me.  "I daresay, Quidditch is a dangerous sport, even for the audience!  You managed to come out okay, thank goodness.  Unfortunately, Mr. Potter didn't.  He's got a broken arm.  Still, worse could have happened."  I looked over at Harry sleeping form again.  "He's okay now, don't worry."

At that moment, Hermione and Ron burst into the room.  "Ginny!  You're awake.  Is she okay, Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yes, she's fine.  But keep it down!  Mr. Potter is sleeping."

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, lowering her voice.  They pulled up chairs to sit beside me, while Madam Pomfrey left to work on paperwork.

"You should have seen it!  Blimey - was that ever a crash!" Ron raved.  "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but Harry has a broken arm."

"Speaking of Harry… we came to talk to you about your plan," Ron started.  His eyes were glinting mischievously.

Hermione nodded.  "Yes, and I think that it's so sweet, Ginny! Considering your love for him…" Ron tried to be discreet, elbowing Hermione in the gut as if they had something to hide.  I pretended not to notice the secretive look on his face; they both were keeping something from me.  I sighed, sinking into the fluffy hospital pillows.

"Well, Ginny, we think you should tell Harry."

"What!" I bolted up in bed.  "Tell me you weren't serious!"

"No, Ginny," Hermione answered, in a calm voice.  "We think you should tell Harry your plan.  If anything, it'll make him at least stop glaring at you half the time."

I blinked; unaware he'd ever been glaring at me in the first place.  "No, if you tell him, then he'll - he'll - just don't.  I wanted to keep it a secret.  Neither of them should to know that I'd be… "

"Keep what a secret?  What will you be doing?"

I paled, and turned to see that Harry was wide awake, staring at the three of us huddled close as if discussing a secret.  Ron nudged me, whispering in my ear, "Tell him!"

"Well?"

I sighed, threw a death glare at Hermione and Ron and said, "Oh, well, I… uh… wanted to apologize for my behavior in the Great Hall.  It was really uncalled for, and, um, I guess I really don't know all that much about you and Cho… and all…" My eyes strayed to my blanket, where I was kneading it and clenching it with pale fingers.

"Yeah…" Harry hesitated, still obviously weary.  "I guess I acted like a jerk, too.  I shouldn't have been angry with you.  I'm sorry."

I nodded absently, silently noting that he did not apologize for ignoring me all those years.  "Listen, Harry, in order to make it up to you…" I looked up at the ceiling.  "I was wondering, you know, if it'd be okay to help you… and Cho… get back together?"

I didn't look at him, afraid of his reaction to my silly request.  Surely he'd decline, not wanting to spend another moment with me.  Why had I even bothered to ask?  I was being silly, stupid… I mean, who asks for forgiveness by offering to get a broken couple back together?  What if he thought I was mocking him?  I closed my eyes, my forehead crinkling with worry.

"Okay," came his neutral response.  I opened my eyes to look at him.  He seemed indifferent; he probably thought it wouldn't work anyway.  And then I promised him, silently, that it would work.  He'd be with Cho again, even if I had to die for it.  No matter what happened. 

"Really?  Okay, then.  Meet me Saturday, by that backdoor, where you broke up," something flickered in his eyes, "and I'll tell you my plan."  I sounded confident, yeah.  But I had no idea what I was doing.

"Sure, okay," was his response.  He closed his eyes, mumbled something, and drifted off to sleep.

"We have to go to class now, Ginny," Hermione said.  "I'll see you back in the Common Room.  You should be back by dinner, right?"  I nodded mutely.

"See ya, Gin," Ron added, as they walked out the door.  I relaxed a bit in my bed.  Starting to feel sleepy again, I rolled over and went back to sleep.

})({

In no time, Saturday came.  I still had no idea what I was going to do or how I was going to get them back together.  I couldn't sleep, so I went down to breakfast early.   But I couldn't eat, either, as I was too busy trying to come up with last minute plan.  In the silence, I suddenly realized that I hadn't seen Cho in quite awhile.  And who just so happened to walk in at that very moment, but Cho Chang.  I jumped out of my seat and ran over to meet her.

"Hi, Cho!  I'm," I started.

"Yes, Ginny Weasley, I know who you are," she smiled.  "May I help you?"

"Yes, you could, actually.  You see, I was wondering if…" I hesitated.  I need to make something up, and fast.  I wasn't sure what I was doing at all.  I don't know why I even left my breakfast in the first place.  But then it hit me.  I got a sudden brilliant idea.  I've never been known to be mischievous, however after the current events I decided I needed to make some sacrifices.  I could tell Cho was almost completely over Harry, if she wasn't already.  If I were to get her to _love Harry, then I'd have to go to some desperate measures._

"Yes…?"

"Iwaswonderingifit'dbeokayifIcoulddateHarry," I mumbled, forcing the words out so quickly, not believing what I was doing.

"Excuse me?"

"I was wondering if it'd be okay with you if I went out with Harry," I answered, after calming myself down.  "I wanted to make sure you were completely over him first, before I went out with him."

"Oh."  She seemed dumbstruck, taken aback by the suggestion that Ginny should require permission and yet regretful.  "Yes," she said slowly.  "Go ahead."  She started towards the Ravenclaw table.

"Wait, Cho!" I called after her.  "Are you _absolutely sure that you don't have any more feelings for him?"_

  
This was her chance to say no.  _Say it, Cho!  Say no!  _And at the same time, I longed for her to say yes.  Say yes, say "Go ahead and marry him for all I care!  It'd do him better."  Convince Harry to love me… I can't do this.

Cho stood there, hesitating, for a while.  "To be honest, Ginny… I… don't know.  Is Harry, do you mean to say that he…?"

You're going to say, "Is he over me already?"  And it does hurt you.  But you don't love him.  Why are people so complicated?  But if you're over him, why do you care so much?

"Do you mean to say that he likes you, then?" She smiled.  "I'm so glad for you, Ginny!  I _told _him that he'd find her _right _behind the corner, right under his nose!  That must be so wonderful for you.  You liked him, didn't you?"

Oh.  Well, then.

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought it would.  Instead of going back to the Gryffindor table, I left the Great Hall and sauntered upstairs.  And then I realized what I'd done.  "What _have_ I got myself into?"

})({

"Hermione!  Hermione!" I called, racing into the Gryffindor Common room, up the stairs and to the girls' dormitory.  "Hermione, I need your help."  I pounded on her door.

"Yes?"  She opened the door and invited me in.  I settled on a chair in the corner, near the window and her bed.

"Hermione, I just did something _terrible_!"

"Calm down, Ginny. It can't have been that bad," she consoled.  "What did you do?"

"I was in the Great Hall and Cho came and I talked to her," I explained.  "I wanted to see if she still liked Harry, so I told her that I wanted to go out on a date with him and that I wanted to make sure she didn't have any feelings for him!  And you know what she said?  She didn't care!  She didn't care that I'd date him.  She said, '_I told him that he'd find her right around the corner, right under his nose!_'  So now I have to tell him soon and I don't know how to tell him…" I trailed off.

Hermione sighed.  "What were you trying to do by asking permission to date Harry?"

"I wanted to see if she'd get jealous."  I noticed the gleam in Hermione eyes.  I'd swear, the girl was up to something no good! "Honest!"

"She was the one who broke up with him first, remember?  She wouldn't get jealous."

I sighed.  "Well, how do I _make her fall in love with him?  I don't know what to do at all."  I sunk into the chair, tears brimming.  I was so stupid for going along with this plan.  It wasn't right to mess with other people's feelings.  You can't make anyone do anything, or feel any particular way about something.  Had it been my own feelings for Harry that made me do this in the first place?  Had I longed so much just to see him smile, that I didn't care how much pain any other went through just to get that smile?  Was it my selfishness in the first place that started this whole mess?_

Hermione put a hand on my shoulder.  "Ginny," she said, her voice gentle.  "You were meeting with Harry this afternoon to talk about it together.  Maybe he'll have an idea to help you get started."

"I'm scared, though," I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek.  "We're playing with people's emotions here. I don't want anyone to get hurt, except for maybe myself.  I can bare the pain."

"You're very noble, Ginny."  Hermione patted me on the back.  "Very noble.  However, I believe you should wipe those tears away, because you're supposed to meet Harry in ten minutes."

"Oh!  Fudge.  Thanks Hermione.  I'll see you later tonight."  And I rushed out the door, out to the Hogwarts corridors, and down to the ground floor.  I could see the door, with Harry waiting by it, tapping his foot and looking extremely doubtful.  I halted at the end of the corridor, fixed my hair, as running had messed it up, and walked to down the hall.

"Hello, Harry," I greeted, "Shall we go outside?  The fresh air may do us some good."  He shrugged, and I opened the wooden door and led him through.  There was a short silence, so I started.

"I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do," I admitted.  "And I'm afraid I don't have a plan."

"It's okay, really.  It probably would work anyway," Harry replied, looking down at the grass.

"No!" I blurted.  "I mean, no.  I've accepted fate all my life, Harry, submitting to doubt.  It gets boring after awhile, let me tell you.  Spending your life always hoping that that particular someone would love you, but deep down always knowing that they would never even notice you.  I've spent half of my time in this very place, trying to convince myself that I'd never have a chance…" Oh, leave it to me spill something so secret, especially to Harry.  I blushed and looked away.  "You can't just wait for fate to come around.  Sometimes you have to go meet it yourself."

I could feel his eyes on me, searching for something.  I gulped, and mumbled, "What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said quickly.  "It's just… how did you get so wise?"

"I… read a lot," I answered, truthfully.    

"Oh.  So, you don't have any ideas?"

I looked at him, startled.  He'd changed his mind!  Did he have faith in me now?  Or was he just being nice?  Well, in any case, he was going to let me do this for him.  He was going to let me help him, and that made me happy.  "Well, actually, today at breakfast I kinda… I asked Cho for permission to date you."

"What!"

"I was trying to see if she'd get jealous."  I looked away, at the gray stones of the castle walls I knew so well.  "She, er, didn't.  Just said, '_I told him that he'd find her!_'"

Harry sighed, sounding hopeless.  "Then what are we going to do now?"

"Don't give up hope so easily!"  I hesitated, thoughtful.  "Yes, well, popularity doesn't affect her. Stand up for a moment, will you?"  Harry complied, and I looked him over.  I stood up, too, and circled him.  He was just an inch or two taller than I was.  "Well, Cho doesn't care about appearances, so it wouldn't matter how much we dressed you up."  _What is it that Cho likes in a guy?  "Okay, Harry, you have to work on a few things."_

"Okay, what?"

"First of all, you appear too… desperate," I observed.

"Me?  Desperate?" He seemed appalled at the idea.

"Well, no offense, but _yes_," I said, half-smiling so that he might not take my criticism too seriously.  Not that he ever had before… "Here you are, the most famous wizard in England, great Quidditch talent, and especially adept in Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Not to mention you have a flock of screaming fan girls drooling after you day by day _and _a group of scheming idiots intent on having you killed…"

"Scheming idiots?"

"The Death Eaters."

He was staring at me funny.  "It's not often you hear anyone call them, 'scheming idiots'."

"Well, it's not often you rely on the obsessed Harry Potter Fan Club President to solve Harry Potter's love crisis," I joked.  And he laughed!  _I made Harry Potter laugh!_

"Okay, continue."

"Well, I was going to say that you're _Harry Potter_, the Boy-Who-Lived, and here you are pining after Cho Chang.  It makes you seem a little… clingy?"

"What makes you say I'm clingy?" he questioned.

"No, clingy isn't the right word."  I hesitated.  "Umm… You are a bit distracted, though."

"Oh."  He took this in, thinking it over.  "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," I said, stifling a giggle.  _I _thought it was a good thing, thought it seemed endearing.  "But now that I think about it, it's nothing you have to change to make her like you.  You're perfect just the way you are."

It didn't occur to me what I'd said until I saw his cheeks redden, and then I felt the heat rise to my own cheeks.  "Or, umm… well…" Oh!  Why did he have to be so cute when he blushed like that?

"Er… okay, well then," he continued, "what should we do?"

I bit my lip.  What could we do?  Cho liked Cedric.  _Cedric… Cho likes Cedric… I don't think this is going to work… _I started grasping at straws.  "You could pretend that you don't care about her anymore."

"I couldn't do that – "

"Of _course _you can!  It can't be that hard," I mused.  "Just pretend that Cho is… a Slytherin!  Pretend that she's Pansy Parkison, or Millicent Bulstrode!"

His brows furrowed.  "But she's a Ravenclaw."

"So?  Just _pretend_," I told him.  Then I shook my head, and said, sighing, "Never mind.  That won't work.  But if you could do that, maybe she'll get confused.  She'll start doubting herself, and… she'll come back to you."

"You're positive this will work?"

I had absolutely no clue what I was talking about!  How should I know if it would work?

"Well, it could.  But that's why we'll need more than one plan," I stated matter-of-factly.  "So our first plan is for you to act indifferent.  If she's happy that you're over her, which is very likely, then we'll need a new plan."  This sounded so diabolical.  _So this is what the twins feel like every time they're planning mischief… I can't imagine why they enjoy it.  _"And if she does come back to you, say you'll think about it.  Don't get mushy or anything."__

"But that's not the way I am…"

"You want Cho back?" He nodded.

"Then trust me on this!"  I looked him over again.  "Right.  So if that doesn't work…" I hesitated.  What was I that Cho had said?  Something about holding a special place in her heart?  "Oh!  I know.  Ask if she wants to just be friends.  If you saw each other as friends first, and got to know each other, instead of just jumping into a relationship, maybe she'd see things differently."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"Harry!" I sighed.  "You know, you _can _just walk up to her and start a conversation. Just don't say a thing about love.  Yes.  Why don't you go do that now? It's Saturday, and no one has any classes today.  Come on."  I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the castle.  "Let's go find Cho."

And that was how everything started.  I was surprised at how quickly I'd thought of a plan, when it'd taken me a whole week and I hadn't come up with anything.  It was a strange feeling, standing in my coven of peace with Harry.  It almost felt like the world had stopped, and we were the only people there.  I didn't care about anything, really.  Maybe, maybe that's what gave me the inspiration for a plan.  I nodded.  Things seemed to be working out – maybe I _could _get Harry and Cho back together.  Maybe I could see Harry happy again.  And if I knew that it had been me who made him happy... Yes, everything would turn out great.


	3. Waiting

**Author's Note:** (Same AN from Chapter 1) Rereading this before sending it to Fiction Alley, I decided that it was in need to a Major Edit.  So here it is, new and improved!  Thank you all my wonderful reviewers… what would I do without you?  Also, I hope that Harry is more In-Character in this version (I'm aware that he isn't, but I'm hoping that he's better).  Oh, and for future references: there are seven chapters planned, about 6 of them with rough drafts finished, and at the time I'm writing this (December 12, 2002) there are only four edited drafts that I'm posting today.  Thank you for listening!

**Disclaimer: **I am not in any way affiliating with Ms. Rowling, and all the characters in this story belong to her.  I'm not making any money of all this (as I only possess a measly $20 and something cents) and I don't mean any harm!

The Pounding Rain  
Chapter Three  
Waiting

I watch you stand there, waiting  
Something you know will happen  
It's just around the corner  
And it's terrible, but you aren't afraid

"Let's go find Cho."

The words tumbled out of my mouth icily, and yet rushed, as though finding Cho were the most important thing to do and there wasn't any time left.  A sense of hurry washed over me, and in a sudden desperate action, I grabbed Harry's wrist.  We practically flew through the castle corridors.  I probably seemed like a madwoman, dragging Harry through the halls as though fleeing from a monster.  And as I ran, I tried not to think.  If I thought about what I was doing and where I was really going, then I'd never be able to help Harry.

When I saw her, I halted as abruptly as I had started running.  There she was, laughing and talking with her friends as she exited the Great Hall.  A wave of emotion made my blood run cold and my feet feel as heavy as lead, although I swayed nauseously as though the wave would force me down.  I glanced at Harry out of the corner of my eye; he stared ahead silently, nervously.  My heart skipped a beat as I realized I was still holding his hand, and I lurched away as though he'd burned me.  If he even noticed, he showed no sign of it.  His eyes were on Cho as he hesitated.  Then, he swerved on his heel and started to walk away.  "I'm not doing it," he mumbled.

The wave a cool dread evaporated, replaced by burning rage.  "Where do you think you're going?" I demanded furiously, stopping him in his tracks.  I'm putting so much effort into this, and now you're chickening out?  I don't think so.  "Go!  Talk to her and be happy.  You deserve as much.  You'd probably be surprised at just how much words can do."  I glared at him.  Pivoting on his heel, he turned back to face me.  "Please go," I pleaded, quietly, once more sad and defeated.  "If you want anything to do with Cho, go to her now, while you still might have a chance."  The back of my eyes stung as tears weld up, and I looked away.

"But Ginny, I don't – "

"Go!" I choked out, trying to fight tears.  God, this is too hard.  If I can't take this much, how can I possibly bear to see them together?  Oh, but I have… so many times.  I can handle it.  Why is this so hard?

He didn't move, just took a deep breath and continued staring at the back of my head.  "Are you sure that this will even work?"

Does he sound hopeful or nervous?  There's something there I can't quite place… what does he want and why does he torture me like this?

I closed my eyes.  A single tear raced down my cheek.  "Yes."  It has to.

And then, I turned, and watched him take his fateful steps towards Cho.  The world seemed to stand still as Harry made his way down the corridor.  His footsteps echoed in my head.  I felt numb with grief.  I'd had Harry for a few brief moments, and for even that short amount of time it had only been the two of us.  Now it would be Harry and Cho.  I felt like I was losing something that hadn't even been mine in the first place, but it was killing me.

'Except you're doing the right thing.'

For once, I agreed with that annoying little voice.  The logical part of my mind knew it was right.  It should not have been this hard, but as my eyes followed Harry down the corridor towards Cho, my heart shattered into pieces.

He reached her.  Time to say 'Hello'.

"Hey, Cho," he greeted as he passed her.  Nervous.  Hesitant.  But maybe Cho won't notice or think it's about her… "How are you?"  There it is!  Harry was calm.  No outside tick gave him away.  How can he put up such a mask so easily?  Why hadn't he done it before?

Cho didn't hide her shock, but she got over it in a second and smiled.  "Hello, Harry.  Good to see you're doing better."

He forced his own smile.  Cho's comment should have touched some inner emotion, should have flicked some switch.  If it bothered him, he didn't show it.  Instead, he looked back at me.

I tried to smile back to him, because at that moment I knew it would work and all Harry needed was encouragement.  Harry would be happy.  And everything would be fine.

But I didn't feel it.  I finally knew that Harry would be happy for certain, and yet I was not in any way content.  I could only help but wonder, What about me and my own happiness?

})({

Later, during dinner, I sat by myself at the table, alone once more.  Hermione and Ron were late and Harry was nowhere in sight.  I ate silently, occasionally listening to the hum of the voices around me.  No one talked to me, but I was fine with that.

Then, as I lifted a spoonful of soup to my mouth, Seamus Finnigan caught my attention.

"I've got inside sources.  Did you hear about another attack?"

I dropped my spoon, soup splashing all over the table and my robes.  He was talking about You-Know-Who!  And it was then I realized that ever since I started helping Harry, I'd forgotten about the one problem everybody shared.

"No…" whimpered a younger boy.  "Do you mean that You-Know-Who… he… attacked?"

Seamus nodded from across the table.  "This time it was in Germany.  Experts are trying to find a pattern in his attacks.  He's killing more and more Muggles everyday.  It's a mad rampage!  And he gets more power everyday."

"B-but… how?"

Seamus looked around.  A few other students had overheard him and their end of the table had gone silent.  "Some say that he's feeding off of fear."

The younger wizard peered up at him with wide eyes.  "No…"

"Yes," Seamus answered mournfully, "and he doesn't care if Muggles know about wizards.  In fact, he wants them to know about us!"

The younger boy was named Isaac Paterick, and most Gryffindors knew that his parents were extremely prejudiced against Muggles, mostly because they dreaded them.  No doubt, Isaac was afraid of them, too.  More than half of the Wizarding World were paranoid about what would happen if Muggles ever found out about them – and they had reason to be.  Although Muggles were generally harmless, if they grouped together out of their own fright of wizards… well, wizards did not need a fight between Muggles and You-Know-Who.

I could see Isaac squirming in his seat nervously.

"Seamus," I interjected, "you might want to stop."  I looked from Isaac to Seamus and back to Isaac.

"Come on, Ginny, he deserves to know what's happening in the world."

"Yes, but you're scaring him.  A person can only take so much," I shot back at him.  "Let him alone."  Then, I turned to Isaac.  "Don't worry, Seamus is just making things up.  Your parents are safe, you're safe, and Professor Dumbledore won't let anyone harm you.  You're safe at Hogwarts."

The boy relaxed in his chair a little.

I went back to my dinner as idle chatter began about Quidditch.  Isaac left not long after.

Voldemort is getting closer and closer to England.

I bit my lip nervously, finished my dinner, and headed straight to the Gryffindor Common Room.  I needed to sort things out.

})({

"Hermione!" I shouted, running down from my dormitories to the common room.  She glanced up from her book, startled.

"Yes?" she queried, closing the book upon seeing my urgent face.

"Have you, by any chance, seen a news paper laying around?"

"What?  Like the Daily Prophet?  I've seen a bunch of them scattered about… why?"

"No, no, not the Prophet," I corrected, collapsing into a chair in a flurry of panic.  "A different once…"

But Hermione shook her head.  "Sorry, Ginny.  Why are you asking?"

My heart sank in utter disappointment.  "Not good…" I whispered to myself.  My hands were shaking. "Not good…"

"Ginny," Hermione insisted, "What's wrong?  You can tell me."

I gazed up at her in terror.  Rocking back and forth in my chair, I said, "It's really complicated."

She frowned and sat up.  "Not anything like…?"

"No," I spat.  "No.  Not like first year."

"Okay," she said gently.  "Then Harry and Cho?"

"Unfortunately, nothing so simple…" I said vaguely.  I bit my lip.

Worry finally contorted her own face.  "Then what, Ginny?  Please, tell me what's got you so worked up."

I gulped, as if trying to swallow my own fear and get a hold over my emotions.  I searched my mind for the right words, anything to make it sound nicer or easier to say.  Nothing came to mind.  "You-Know-Who."

Her eyes darkened and she gripped the edge of the table.  "What about him?" she whispered, voice suddenly raspy and thin.

"I was… keeping track of where he was," I tried to explain.  I clasped my hands together, finding that they were cold and clammy.

Eyes widening, she gasped, "How?"

"I had access to the right newspapers," I told her, "as Dad is in the Ministry.  More like a newsletter sent to Ministry members… but that's not important.  I just… made sure to check the newspapers every day.  I've only been doing this since a little after Halloween.  He made his first attack in Hong-Kong, China.  No one ever found out how he got there, exactly, but now he's heading west and gathering followers as he goes.  He has armies everywhere now!" I cried.  I slumped in my chair.

"But… there's something else," she realized.  Her face was eager for more information, but at the same time it was reluctant.  She didn't want to hear that she might be attacked tomorrow, didn't want to feel the horror at the words, but she needed to know what might help her.

"That week after the Quidditch game – you know, the one with the Snitch coming to me and what not – I lost track.  That whole week I missed the newspaper!  I didn't really notice that I wasn't getting them, but I wasn't.  Someone probably stole them, or else the newspaper company made a mistake in delivering.  But I think it's most likely the first."

Hermione held her breath, eyes blazing with curiosity and puzzlement as she tried to figure ou what was going on.  "Who, do you think, stole them?"

"Seamus," I answered.  "Seamus knew where he was."

"Seamus?" she repeated.  "What – why would he – how?"

"I don't know!" I wailed.  "He shouldn't know!  Unless he was also subscribed to the newspaper, but how could he be?  And the newspaper wasn't public!  He had to have stolen them."

"Is that so bad?" she wondered aloud.  "Doesn't everyone have the right to know?"

I sighed.  "Yes."  I glared down at the table in front of me.  "Yes, they do.  It wouldn't have been hard for them to figure it out themselves.  But Seamus… I've seen him everywhere I went.  He couldn't have stolen them!" I realized.  "He never saw me with the paper.  No one did; they were all privately sent to me and I always received them in my dormitory while everyone else was sleeping.  Even if they did see the owl come at night, though, they wouldn't have been able to see what the letter was."

"Are you sure no one saw you?  Was there ever a time when you might've left it somewhere accidentally?"

"No…" I paused, thought it over.  "Whenever I was done reading them, I'd come down stairs and burn them in the fireplace.  It was so late, no one was ever in the common room."

"Ever?"

I went over the past few nights in my head.  Well… there was that one night… "Once, I came downstairs and someone was still working on their homework, but they looked asleep.  Who was it…?  Harry!  It was Harry!"

"What was me?"

Hermione and I jumped in our seats.  We'd been so caught up in the conversation that we hadn't noticed Harry approach the table.  I sighed, running a hand through my hair.  Why can't I have a normal life?

Hermione cut straight to the chase.  "Harry, did you see Ginny throw a newspaper in the fire place?"

He seemed confused at first, but then understanding dawned on him.  "Yes, awhile ago.  It was… really late, and I was finishing my History of Magic essay.  Naturally, I'd fallen asleep over it, but someone's footsteps woke me up.  I saw Ginny standing by the fireplace, about to throw something into it, when all of a sudden she jumped, as though – "

"I felt someone's eyes on me," I explained, "and panicked, because I thought someone else was in the room watching me.  I thought you were asleep."

"And then she dropped the paper and ran upstairs."  He sat down in the chair next to me.

"I missed the fireplace, didn't I?"

Harry nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose.  He fidgeted in his chair.

"Wait a second," Hermione said slowly, "Harry!"  She seemed aghast.  "You intercepted those newsletters!  Why – why would you do that?  Those were Ginny's!"

"And she was holding back information about Voldemort!" he yelled suddenly, then lowered his voice as the people close to them swiveled to hear their conversation.  "That wasn't fair.  She could have told us."

Hermione frowned.  "I suppose now isn't the time for should haves.  Where is You-Know-Who?"

"Hamburg," he answered, giving up and slouching.  

"Wait…" I interjected.  "He can't be in Hamburg!  When I lost track of him, he was in Istanbul!"

"The last attack was in Hamburg," Harry repeated.

Hermione was pale and frozen.  Her eyes were a storm of fear and panic.  Harry's were just closed.

"He's gaining speed," I warned.  "It took him sixth months to go from Hong-Kong to Istanbul.  Yet in a week he travels a fourth of that distance!  I lose track and he gains."

"That's not the worst of it," Harry said darkly.  "He awakened Dracula, somehow."

"Dracula!" Hermione exclaimed.  "But he's dead!  Or whatever it is you call a vampire that's destroyed."

"Among other enemies," Harry muttered.  "And apparently, Voldemort has the power to resurrect – or whatever it is you would use for vampires – them."

"No…" I whimpered.  "No.  If he can go from Istanbul to Hamburg in a little over a week, he could be here in just less than that!  Hamburg to Scotland isn't as far.  And Dracula…  This isn't fair.  Now you're going to tell me he's somehow managed to resurrect Grindelwald, too?"

"He wouldn't do that," Hermione argued, "because Grindelwald wouldn't fight for him."

There was silence for a while as the information soaked in.  The hum of conversation around us seemed loud and obnoxious.  My heard was racing and my head was pounding.  Oh, God.

"I'm going to go after him," Harry declared.  His face was shadowed with grief, fear, misery, but most of all hatred.  "I'm not going to let him do worse."

"You can't!" I tried to tell him, but I knew that Harry would be able to defeat You-Know-Who.  Just not now… "Harry, you're not ready."

"We're only three students – four when we tell Ron."  Harry and I looked at her.  "And we are telling Ron, because he deserves to know.  Between the four of us, what can we do to stop You-Know-Who?  We need to tell the teachers."

I closed my eyes and breathed.  In and out.  In and out.  It was necessary to calm down.  "No, Harry can stop him.  Just… I don't want to…"

Harry sighed exasperatedly.  "Let me go, then."

"We're not going to have you get yourself killed!" Hermione disagreed, "And we're not going to let you go."

"Harry's the only person You-Know-Who ever showed weakness against besides Dumbledore," I said.  "And we have Dumbledore.  Harry, you can't go."

"Voldemort will come after me anyway," he reasoned, "so I might as well go.  I can fend for myself."

"You're only in sixth year!" Hermione argued.  Hermione and I were at a loss.  We knew that neither of us could stop Harry from leaving, but we hoped we might be able to stall him.  Dumbledore might convince Harry to stay…

"Why don't we go to Dumbledore?"

They seemed surprised at this idea.  When had they ever gone to Dumbledore before?  It wasn't too late to try, and I told them so.

"But…"

"Hermione," I persisted, "Maybe Dumbledore will have some ideas of what to do."

Harry stood up and towered above us.  "I'll go looking for him now if you're going to try to stop me later…"

"Harry Potter," I yelled, standing up beside him and glaring.  "If you think for one moment that we are going to let you go and nearly get yourself killed, then you are greatly mistaken!  We'll Body Bind you if we have to!" Hermione raised her wand just in case. "Honestly!  You-Know-Who is in Hamburg right now anyway, so you wouldn't be able to do much.  It's not like you can Apparate!"

"But I can't just stand around here and wait!" He shouted back.  People were staring, but we were too angry to notice.

"This is all happening too fast," Hermione blurted, whispering something under her breath.

"Do you think it's any easier to watch you head towards inevitable doom?" I glared at him, and to my surprise he sat back down.  "Here's what we do," I started, taking authority which was so entirely unlike me.  "I know some spells that might help us – extra studying.  But it was needed.  So I can help you.  I can help you protect everyone from You-Know-Who."

"We need to tell people," Hermione suggested.  "They deserve to know.  I'll tell Dumbledore…"

"Good, good.  Okay…" I sat back down and stared unseeingly around the room.  "And Ron if you see him."

The minute I'd finished speaking, Hermione had stood and disappeared from the room.  The rest of the Gryffindors seemed to have lost interest or were otherwise caught up in their own worlds.  I was left alone with Harry now.  And all I could do was disintegrate into a mess of tears.  I can't handle this pressure…

"I can't do this," I said aloud, "I can't.  Can't do the thing with Cho… and You-Know-Who… not to mention my schoolwork!  Well, that might not matter… but it's just too much to bear.  I'm only fifteen!  This really isn't right!  None of this is right!"

I sobbed hard for a long time.  Tears flooded my face like a storm, like a hurricane of fear, anger, sadness, and defeat.  Harry sat there watching me.  God, I'm making such a fool of myself right now, crying my eyes out.  I'm really am the Weasley's little baby girl.  Why hasn't he left yet?

I sniffled.  "Why are you still here?  Shouldn't you be telling Cho or something?"  It was a harsh comment to make, but for once I didn't care.  My life was just one hurdle after another, and each time they got higher and higher and I didn't think this time I'd be able to leap safely over it.

And I was afraid to fall.

"Cho?"  He hesitated.  "I have more important things to worry about than Cho."

My hair curtained my face, but I peered through it to look at Harry.  "W-what happened with Cho?" I dared to ask.

"Absolutely nothing," he replied, half-smiling.

I felt a pang of anger, but at the moment I felt too defeated to yell.  "But I… I meant well, I mean… why didn't you…?"

"Cho was right," he admitted, "and I never really loved her."  He sighed.

"But I – I went to all that trouble," I started.

"You know," he said, "you didn't do that much."

A few bubbles of laughter left me.  "Um, I suppose not, no."  I pushed my hair out of my face.

"So, my friend," he continued, trying to lighten the mood, "What now?"

I was about to answer when I stopped.  "Friend?"

"Yes…" he replied.  "What did you think?"

I wondered if he noticed the corner of my mouth turn slightly upwards.  But it was only for a brief second.  "That, well, I'm only your best friend's little sister."

"Nah," he answered, waving his hand, "Don't be silly.  You're a friend!  You're doing something so nice for me, and I don't think I deserve it.  I've been so rude to you lately."

"No, I wouldn't say – "

"You didn't, I did.  Listen," he consoled, "I may not have paid attention to you in the past, and I'm sorry for that.  But I'm here as a friend now."  He paused, and his emerald eyes darkened.  "You're the only person I know who has ever really come face to face with Voldemort, too, and lived."

"Harry," I struggled to say.  I knew where he was going, and that was not a walk I wished to take down memory lane.  "Don't."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.  His voice, though so quiet, seemed to strike chords in my heart.  I swallowed nervously.  "But if you ever want to talk about it…"

I shook my head, but my heart skipped a beat.  He… he wants to talk to me?  But… why now?

"Okay."  He put his hand on my shoulder.  "Are you okay?  Cheer up."

"Thanks," I sniffled.  "I'm fine.  Now."  I wiped my eyes and sat up a little.

"No problem."  He forced a smile.  "We have a week for fun before Vol—You-Know-Who comes.  Let's not waste it crying and worrying.  We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.  Now, what do you say we play a game of chess?"

I smiled, surprised that I could when I felt so depressed.  My tears stopped.  "You know, I'm not as good as Ron is.  He'd make a better opponent."

"What?" he laughed.  "I know how good he is!  That's entirely the reason I'd rather play you.  It might be good to win for once."

"Well," I teased back, "just become I'm not as good as Ron doesn't mean I'm entirely terrible.  I am his little sister, and he's taught me a thing or two."

"What's going on?" Ron had joined them at the table.

"Harry challenged me to a chess match," I explained.  "He thinks he's going to win."

Ron snorted.  "Now, no offense Harry, but I think even Fred and George could beat you in chess."

"I'm not that bad!" he protested.

Ron winked at me, "He is.  Besides, with me as a teacher, how could you do bad?"

"Well then, let's see if Ron makes a better teacher than a student!" I exclaimed.  Ron glared at her before he burst out laughing.

"You sound like Hermione!" he noted, "Speaking of her, where did she go?"

Harry and I exchanged glances.  "To see Professor Dumbledore.  You could probably catch up with her; she left a few minutes ago."

Ron left, and Harry and I went to get our chess sets.  We spent the evening playing it, and as it turned out, I wasn't half bad.  Besides, who cares if I do end up losing?  It's Harry, and despite the startling realization of You-Know-Who's whereabouts, it was one of the best evenings of my life.  For the first time, I felt like I was connecting with him, like I was becoming a part of his life, like I was becoming someone important.  That was a step up, definitely.  Letting out a shaky sigh, I actually realized what Harry had said.  'Cho was right.  I never really loved her.'  Could Harry fall in love with me?  No, that's just wishful thinking.  He just thinks of me as a friend.  That's better than nothing.  And even though I knew that Harry would never love me, and I would never be with him, my heart would not give my mind power this time.  And it was so much easier this time to relax around Harry.  We spent the evening playing chess, and for the first time, I felt relieved and happy. I felt good; I felt loved.


	4. Yesterday

**Author's Note:** (same AN from Chapter One – Three) Rereading this before sending it to Fiction Alley, I decided that it was in need to a Major Edit.  So here it is, new and improved!  Thank you all my wonderful reviewers… what would I do without you?  Also, I hope that Harry is more In-Character in this version (I'm aware that he isn't, but I'm hoping that he's better).  Oh, and for future references: there are seven chapters planned, about 6 of them with rough drafts finished, and at the time I'm writing this (December 12, 2002) there are only four edited drafts that I'm posting today.  Thank you for listening!

**Disclaimer: **I am not in any way affiliating with Ms. Rowling, and all the characters in this story belong to her.  I'm not making any money of all this (as I only possess a measly $20 and something cents) and I don't mean any harm!

The Pounding Rain

Chapter Four

Yesterday

You sit on a cold wet bench 

_Waiting for something to happen_

_It's like your relieving yesterday_

And you're grinning ear to ear 

Isn't it funny how it's always the simplest things in life that can make a person ecstatic with joy?  

For instance, receiving the doll she wanted for her birthday could thrill a little girl.  And for that brief moment in time, she's never been so content.  But then, times change and the doll is cast aside and she wants more.  Or maybe the doll's moment of glory just passed away.  The girl is sad again.  It's these tiny, happy moments in life that can somehow outshine the dark ones, but sooner or later the moment is whipped away and nothing is left but the broken heart of a dreamer.

If it weren't for those moments, those terrible, dark moments, we'd all be weak and unchallenged, I suppose.  That doesn't mean they're not hard, but people expect life to be easy.  I know better.

The sky was dull and shadowed in grays: the signal that a storm would be here soon.  For the past few days, all we'd been getting was rain, rain, and more rain, and everyone was getting antsy with boredom.  Yet everyone had managed to escape the confines of the common room to find something more exciting to do.  I enjoyed the solitude.

As I gazed out the window, at the tense sky, the images of the past few hours flashed through my head.  I could practically see Harry sitting at the table next to me, laughing and playing chess.  Inside I was beaming in elation at the memory of him and me.  _But he's only a friend._

And my happiness melted away.  I wanted to more moments like last night, wanted more gold in my world of grays.  Even still, the hope that Harry would love me back was growing every time I saw him.  _Is it possible?_

'No, of course not.'

_But a heart never listens to the mind._

A streak of angry yellow ripped the sky in two, illuminating the dreary landscape and creating a world of dark and foreboding shadows.  _Lightning… a symbol of danger.  _The scar on Harry's forehead blinked before my mind's eye.  _Is that a message to me: a message to stay away from Harry?  Or was it a warning that he's dangerous?  Or is it just a strange coincidence?_

_Why is always raining?_

})({

Later, sitting on my bed immersed in a book, I vaguely heard the sound of knocking on my dormitory door.  It creaked open and clicked shut, and Hermione pushed aside the curtains of my four-poster.

"Ginny?  Are you okay?" she fretted, putting a hand to my forehead.  "You look a bit feverish."

"I'm fine," I assured, pushing away her hand.  "Fine.  Did you tell Dumbledore?"

She bit her lip and slowly shook her head.  "I couldn't find him anywhere."  Her eyes were a muddy brown, dejected and sad.  "Even the teachers don't know where he went."  She tilted her head to the side and stared at me.  "Are you sure you're okay?  You seem distracted."

"I'm fine!" I insisted again.  "Just as worried as you are.  I just want to relax… before You-Know-Who comes.  I want to be alone."

She bit her lip and then let out a frustrated sigh.  "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."  And then she left in a huff. 

})({

Outside the night air was crisp, and the sky was finally free of overbearing clouds.  Once again, the stars could wink to the earth below.  I was returning to Gryffindor Tower after Astronomy, and had opted to take the longer, yet quieter, path.  However, upon glancing out the window and finding the sky clear for once, I stopped and stood by the window.  It was luck that a Professor hadn't happened to find me just standing here after hours.

_I should go_.

But there was something I wanted to do first.  So, instead of turning up the stairs that would lead me to Gryffindor Tower, I started off towards the Owlery.

"Dear Bill" 

Since second year, I'd kept up a correspondence with my older brother, Bill.  A month or so had passed since I'd sent him a letter, so he was probably curious as to what was keeping me from writing.  It was about time I sent him something.

_"I'm sorry I haven't written in awhile."_

The corridors echoed with the music of the forest and night.  An owl hooted as she glided through the air, circling the towers and turrets of Hogwarts.  Off in the distance howled a lone wolf, desperate and lonesome amongst the dark trees.

_"But I've been a little preoccupied."_

The creatures of the night emerged from their day-slumber and began their chorus.  I rushed down the empty halls and basked silence.  With dreams on my mind and melody in my eyes, I silently, yet quickly, tiptoed through the halls.

_"You'll probably already know this by now, as you're in Egypt, but You-Know-Who is on his way here.  By the time you receive this owl, he may even have set foot on Hogwarts ground.  This will be impossible to ask, but ask I will: please do not worry about us."_

I slowed down.  It wouldn't matter if Bill got his letter late, because no matter what he'd get it after You-Know-Who arrived.  Yet even so, I was entertained and caught up in the trance of the stars and night music.  I wasn't sad… until I realized.  You-Know-Who had, unfortunately, the power to destroy everyone's lives: that was a power _no one _should have, but have it he did.  And with it, he would obviously wreak havoc on the world…

All those people… all the world… dead.  At the hands of this nasty, despicable man – _no, creature_ – the world's innocence, if there ever had been any, would vanish like dandelion seeds whipped away by the wind.  And the children of the world, most of all the _Muggle_ children, would never understand why the people around them cried out, would never comprehend the disaster befalling them… they'd just know sudden darkness, and then…

_"Never mind, I know you won't be able to promise that.  I know the dangers I'm about to face, and I'm not going to sugar coat it to you.  You-Know-Who – no, call him by his right name.  Voldemort.  He is heading for Hogwarts, for Harry, and if we don't do something then everything is lost anyway."_

Would the children ever be able to see the good things about the world before they were thrown into the inevitable?  Perhaps some.  But what about all those out there whose lives were already terrible?  They deserved so much more.  I pressed my eyes closed.  _Life's not fair…_

_"If I… If I don't make it, tell Mum and Dad and Charlie… tell everyone that I love them and I was only trying to help.  I don't even want to do it.  I'm scared.  I feel like such a child.  But then I look at Harry's face everyday, and my heartbreaks all over again about how much he's been through.  And every once in awhile, I look in his eyes and I see the Chamber of Secrets.  Tom Riddle all over again.  That fear from my first-year is all welling up inside me, but I can't stop it.  Can't hide it.  It's just another reminder of what Voldemort can really do, and I don't want what happened to Harry and I to happen to anyone else, especially not the Muggles who don't even know Voldemort exists."_

We were just standing there, letting life pass us by.  That's what it means to live, doesn't it?  I don't know anymore.  Voldemort and the terrors of the Wizarding World have twisted my own life.  Would it have been easier to live naively, like the Muggles do, without knowledge of the Dark Magic?  How had peace escaped me?

_"Bill, I miss being a little girl."_

I miss feeling safe.

I'm racing towards peril.  I'm running from it at the same time.  _Out of the frying pan, into the fire._  _Why can't I have a normal life?  _I was shaking under the pressure of my memories… the Chamber of Secrets.  I would have to face _him _again.

_"I don't even remember why I'm doing anything.  I can't remember the words to the song Mum used to sing to us as children.  What's happening to me, Bill?"_

Tom Riddle… Harry…  I clenched my fists and glared at the stone.  Then the wall was a window, as I sped once again towards the Owlery.  I was almost there.  But I stopped to stare at my reflection in the window.

_"It's almost like first year all over again, except I'm not involved in any dark devices… unless the heart counts as a dark device.  Because that's what it feels like now.  I feel like I've been corrupted, and I don't know why.  It doesn't even have to do with Voldemort.  It's with Harry."_

Imagine the words on the paper.  Think of what you will write to Bill in your mind so you can write quicker.  _But no.  The words aren't coming.  Just me… _I was so pale, so pathetically desperate looking.  _Is it just my imagination?_

_"I feel like my heart and my life were stolen from me.  Or will be, soon.  I can't place the feeling, but it's weird and it scares me."_

A single tear ran its path down my cheek.  I took a breath as I opened the door to the Owlery.  Hands shaking, I took out a piece of parchment from my bag and reached for my ink and quill.

_"I write this letter to you because I know you worry about me, not that I'm expecting this to help any.  Maybe I just want my thoughts on paper, and can't think of anyone better to talk to than you.  You've been there for me, which is more than I can say for the twins, and sometimes even Ron.  They look out for me, but they don't understand me.  I still love them."_

My hand hovered above the parchment.  Quill shivering, I began to write my thoughts on paper.  I poured out my soul like a spilt inkbottle, and before I knew it the parchment was covered in violet ink and fragments of my heart.

_"Be proud of me, please, Bill.  I'm doing only what I think first to do.  I'm trying to be strong and brave like the rest of the family."_

First year replayed itself over and over in my head.  _No._

_"I'm trying to make it stop.  Make the nightmare stop."_

_'Dear Tom… rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there.  Dear Tom… I can't remember what I did the night of Halloween… Dear Tom… Dear Tom… I think I'm going mad… I think I'm the one attacking everyone!'_

_No.  Make it stop._

I dropped the quill.

_'Weakness… that's all you are.  Weak.'_

_Stop it…_

My hands were quivering; my heart was racing.  

'_Don't tell Harry… You didn't tell Harry, did you?  He can't know… no… no…'_

Stop it… 

_'Foolish, foolish girl.'_

_Stop it…_

The dead roosters in my hands and their feathers covering my robes, the paint on the wall… _'You!  Couldn't stand up to a diary!'_

"Stop it, please…" I heard my hoarse voice whisper.  I shook my head.  Had I fallen asleep, or did the nightmares haunt me during the day now, too?  I couldn't tell.  "Stop it!"

_He was touching me… his hands caressed my cheek… and then I shouted and he slapped me for it.  'They can't hear you, you know!  You're wasting your breath.'_

The logical part of my mind knew he couldn't have slapped me; he hadn't been real.  He couldn't have touched me.  Yet I remembered it.  It was just another terrible vision.

"Stop it!" I shouted.  "Get off of me!"

Cold hands brushed my forehead.

Laughter… his cold shriek screaming at me… 

"Ginny!"

Warm… the voice was warm.  It burned away the icy memories of my past.  I shook into reality.

"Harry!" I gasped.  "I – I… I'm sorry."

He sat down beside me and I folded up my letter to Bill.

"Sorry?  For what?" he asked.  His eyes flitted to the letter I was covering with my hands to my face, then back to the letter.  But he didn't say anything.

"I… Did I disturb you?" Heat flamed on my cheeks.  "I didn't mean to."

"No," he answered shortly.  "No, Ginny.  But why…?"

My hands closed tightly around the parchment.  In my dry, raspy whisper, I told him, "Tom Riddle."  And that was all he needed to hear to understand.  He sucked in air and blew it out in an angered sigh.  His eyes darkened in hatred at the name, and he glared up at the sky.  All in a moment, he shook himself from his phase and looked at me, expression much gentler.  My heart had a sudden desire to flutter up in my chest.

"You know," he confided, "I still feel guilty for Cedric's death at the end of fourth year.  Even though I know that it wasn't my fault, I… don't accept it."

I nodded meekly.  "I was too weak and too stupid.  I should have known better."

"It tears you up inside," he added, "and there's nothing to do to make it go away."

I'd never talked about this too Harry before.  It was too evil of a subject, buried to deep in my heart to ever bring it up in front of anyone.  But Harry would understand the way that Ron, Hermione, or anyone else would not.

"I'm afraid that I won't be able to stand up to him," I admitted, feeling the burning behind my eyes that signaled the storm of tears threatening to overcome me.  "Afraid of being defeated again."

"So am I."

Outside the wind whistled, carrying the forlorn cry of the wolf and the screech of a bird.  I felt absurdly cold, even though I was wrapped in my cloak.

"Why don't you send your letter," he suggested, "and then we can return to the warmth of Gryffindor Tower."

})({

The rain was icy on his flesh, and it burned his skin in its chilling manner right down to his bone.  His steps were dangerous and foreboding as he tread across the muddy lawn towards the Hogwarts lake, where the water had frozen and showed no sign of breaking under his heavy feet, so he made his way towards the center of the lake.  He did not understand the reasons of his trail, nor did he understand how the lake could solve his problems.  Looking down, he could see the images of Cho dancing.  Like a television screen, he watched her singing to herself in front of a mirror, staring dreamily into his eyes.  He continued on, and the images moved with him.  His stride grew less weary and bolder and he came closer and closer to the center of the lake.  And suddenly, the pictures were no longer Cho, but Ginny.  Surprised, he nearly lost his footing on the ice, but regained it quickly. He could see Ginny clearly in the glassy surface, chin arched defiantly, yet majestically in a way he'd never noticed.  Her brown eyes were sparking with an animosity he'd never expected of her.  The image captivated him, and while he stared hypnotically at her he continued his trek across the ice.  Then his own image stood protectively beside her.  He put his arm around her.  Calm washed over her like the soothing tide, and she smiled in his embrace.  Had she always been that beautiful?  No, she was the same Ginny.  He just saw her differently; he could see the brightness of her eyes shining up at him now.  He could see the aura of happiness haloed around her.  But there was darkness at her core, nightmares that haunted her.  He slipped at the shadows at the back of her eyes, shadows that danced to the fire of fear.  He slid endlessly towards the center of the lake, and he could feel the ice getting thinner and more brittle.  He stopped in the center.

Voldemort.

The monster hovered above him, cackling cutting through the air like a knife grating on iron.  The monster's hands raised and wand extended towards the cowering boy on the ice.  The inescapable words of fate's worst curse hung in the silence between them.  They left his mouth.  The boy prepared for death.

Death never came, though.

Voldemort's hand twitched just a fraction to the right.  Before he even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, an earsplitting scream shook his soul.  He twisted on the ice to see who the screech of fear belonged to.  Ginny.  Dead.  Frozen.  Pale.  Gone.

})({

I shivered awake, gasping for air.  My mouth opened to scream, but I swallowed it down.  Sit up.  Calm down.  It's over.

"You're safe," I reassured myself, "in your dormitory."

I stood on shaky legs and went to the side table where the pitchers of water were kept.  Shivering, I gulped down a glass of water.  Moonbeams danced on the floor, dusting it with a pale white glow.  The floor was cold as ice.  My stomach was cold slush.  I took another sip of water and lay down in bed.

})({

Skeptic faces stared back at me.  The library was mostly empty, but Hermione insisted we get the back table and speak in hushed voices.  I observed their expressions.

Harry was looking sullen as ever, his eyes dull and shadowed from lack of sleep.  Hermione was pale and worried, and Ron was mortified and angry at the same time.  He shook his head.

"You think this dream you had… of You-Know-Who killing you… you think it means he's getting closer?" he questioned.  "I mean, it's just a dream."

"Right," I snarled, "just a nightmare.  Silly.  Shouldn't have brought it up."

Hermione sent me a stern look.  "No reason to get angry," she reasoned.  "Ron, sometimes dreams can give us a foresight into the future."

He frowned, but his eyes stared despairingly down at the wooden table.  Something was bothering him.  "What did you say happened in the dream, then?" his question dripped with doubt.  "Maybe we can stop it from happening."

"There was ice… I slipped," I lied, "And then he pointed his wand at me and killed me."

Ron shifted in his chair.  "Don't go near ice, then."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  "That's all that happened?"  I nodded, paled, and sank into my chair.  He tried to catch my eyes, but I looked away and out the window.

"Yes," I maintained.  Change the subject.  "Now, then.  Can anyone help me with my Transfiguration homework?"

})({

Drops of rain splattered on the window.  Rain all week.  Great.  My dormitory was tranquil.  I don't know where the other girls were.  I didn't care.  I just sat on my bed, staring out the window instead of reading the book in my hand.  Too many thoughts were pounding in my head to concentrate.

Then I left the window, left my bed, and stormed out of the dormitory.  I needed to do something.  Sitting and thinking would not help.  I pounded down the stairs and found Hermione peering over a length of parchment, rereading what she'd written.

"Hey, Hermione," I yawned, falling into a seat across from her.  "How's the essay?"

"Finished," she grinned proudly, setting down her quill and stretching.

"That's good."  Silence followed as Hermione packed up.  Then she sat stiffly in her chair and drummed her fingers on the table.  

"Finally," she muttered, watching the portrait hole.  I turned to see Harry enter, wet and exhausted.  "Hi, Harry!" she greeted, once he reached the table.  He threw down his bag and slid into a chair.  "Err… Harry?"

He frowned.  "Hullo, Hermione.  Ginny."  I nodded in reply.  Once more, hush held the table in a tight, uncomfortable meeting.

"What's up?" I dared to ask.

Running his hand through his hair, making it even more of a tousled mess, he sighed and started digging around in his bag.  "Cho," he said carefully, glancing sideways at me.  "She… confronted me in the halls today."

Hermione dropped her jaw in shock.  "What for?  What did she say?"

"She misses me," he answered primly, finding his quill and ink and setting it on the table.  "And wants to know if I feel the same."

"What?" I ventured.  "She wants to get back together with you?"

He shrugged.  "Just wanted to know if we were still friends and why I hadn't spoken to her in awhile."

"And?  What about you?" I bit my lip nervously.

"I don't know!" he huffed.  "No.  I told you.  I don't like her anymore."

My eyes narrowed.  "What is irritating you?" I asked crossly.  I hated it when people were angry and refused to talk about it.  If you don't talk about it, don't give me an attitude.

"Here I am, about to face Voldemort," Hermione flinched, "And here is Cho, yelling at me for not talking to her and if I'm mad, why don't I say something?  No, I'm not mad.  Then why don't I talk to her?  Is it some written law that I have to?  No!  I'm busy, I insist, but… but…" He took a deep breath.  "I don't hate Cho.  I just don't want to have to deal with this when I have worse things on my mind.  It's irritating."

"Understandable," I consented, "I suppose.  But just because you do have Voldemort at your doorstep doesn't mean you can forget about friends.  Don't let him ruin your life!  Don't give him that power!"

"He already has it, Ginny.  You were the one who said so!" He argued back.  "Forget it.  Forget it."  He stood up and left.

"Ginny," Hermione said.  Here it comes.  "Harry is under a lot of stress.  Cut him some slack."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we're all under a lot of stress, and I don't see what makes him think – "

"Let him be, Ginny," she said softly.  "Or be there for him.  Don't yell."

"It's the only way to knock some sense into his head!"

But I was fighting a losing argument, so I fell quiet and sat in thought for a minute or two.

As if she could see the battle in my mind, Hermione said, "Ginny… you can't go on like this.  You need to tell Harry how you feel.  If you love him, tell him now.  Directly.  Before you lose your chance!  Harry will surprise you, he always has."

I glowered at her.  "I don't need a lesson, Hermione," I said darkly.  "And you say the same thing every single time."

"And you never listen!" she scolded.  "Are you going to watch him walk out of your life?  What if he doesn't come back from You-Know-Who?"  The thought pained her as she spoke it, but she plunged ahead.  "What if he dies…" she closed her eyes and swallowed, "and you never get to tell him?  Or do you think it's noble to keep it a secret while he leaves you behind?"

"I'm not keeping it a secret!" I said shrilly.  "And he's not leaving me behind!  I have every intention of walking out there with him when Voldemort gets here.  It's noble to stick by him, and that is what I'm doing.  No one is leaving anyone."  I stood abruptly and stomped up the stairs to the dormitories.  What does she know?  She doesn't understand.  Ron loves her back.  And I've loved Harry for years.  It isn't really a secret.  For goodness sakes, I'm happy!

But I knew I was lying myself, and it was getting harder every time.  Before I entered the safety of my dormitory, I peered over the banister at Hermione.  She stood soundlessly at the end of the table, shocked and sad looking.  She shook her head and picked up her bag, heading dejectedly towards the stairs.  I rushed inside to the confines of my room.

})({

In the morning I woke feeling well rested and even a bit cheerful.  I think I just got tired of sadness.  Why was I happy while my life slowly spun out of control?  Maybe it's just an illusion.  Sighing, I dressed and hurried down to breakfast.

"Good morning Harry," I greeted at breakfast, trying to sound sorry.  "Good morning, Ron, 'morning Hermione."  I didn't have to try to smile as I sat down and began buttering a piece of toast.

"I see you haven't declared war on your breakfast yet," Hermione teased.

"Ah, but the day has only begun!" I laughed.  I could see Hermione send Ron a pointed look out of the corner of my eye.

Harry commented, "You seem especially jubilant today, Ginny.  It's good to see you happy for a change."

"Jubilant – is that your big word of the day, Harry?" Ron joked.  Harry rolled his eyes.

"Thank you."  I wondered if they noticed my grin widen.

"I think," Hermione said cautiously, "that we should tell the teachers.  About You-Know-Who."

Harry and Ron seemed dubious, but I nodded in agreement.  "If they don't already know."

There was only a millisecond of hesitation before we all leaped from our chairs and raced towards the doors, ignoring the confused glances of our peers and the jeers from the Slytherins.  The halls were crowded with students heading towards breakfast, and pushing against them we felt like salmon swimming upstream.  Eventually, the horde of pupils started to thin, but none of the teachers were in sight – they hadn't been in the Great Hall, either.

Where are the professors?  Why haven't we seen any at all?

"Neville!" Ron said, jumping in front of him.  "Do you know where all the teachers are?"

Neville blinked and stared at us as though we'd gone insane.  Perhaps we had.  We watched him intently, as if our lives depended on his answers.  Perhaps they did.  "The teacher's lounge," he answered hesitantly.  "McGonagall called I meeting… I heard."

"Thanks!" we yelled over our shoulders, already halfway down the hall.  Ron got there first, and started pounding relentlessly on the door.  Professor Sprout opened it to find us standing side-by-side and gasping for air.  They pushed me forward to talk.

"I'm sorry, children," she told us, looking exhausted herself, "but we don't have the time – "

"No!" Hermione interrupted, "This is urgent.  It's about You-Know-Who!"

Professor Sprout shook her head.  "I know you want to help, but right now – "

"Who's at the door?" came a voice from inside.  

Hermione started to explain, when all of a sudden Seamus Finnigan's voice floated down the hall.  "Wait!" he shouted, sprinting down the corridor.  "Wait.  They… can… help!"

"Professor?  Is everything all right?"  Professor McGonagall came to the door.  "What seems to be the problem?"

Hermione, Ron, and I looked at Seamus, wondering what he was doing here, how much he knew, and whether he would explain.  He hesitated, glanced at Harry – and we followed his gaze – who nodded back at Seamus, who seemed to have caught his breath.  He spoke.

"Professor, we know where You-Know-Who is," he began, staring urgently up at McGonagall.  "There's a newspaper that explains it, really goes into detail about his methods.  It wasn't any publicly known newspaper, and um… well, Ginny can explain better."  But he took out a copy of one of the newspapers I'd been using and handed it to McGonagall.  Everyone's eyes turned to me.

"Well, you see, Professor," I spluttered, surprised at Seamus, "I thought it might – err – help if I tried to trace You-Know-Who myself, but surely you already know… where he is… but even if you did, you wouldn't tell us, and I had to be resourceful.  Certainly you understand; I couldn't just wait for him to show himself, because that would only be an attack."

"Miss Weasley," said Professor McGonagall, "I cannot say I'm surprised by your behavior.  I'm quite impressed, actually.  However, you must know that we have the situation completely under control, and you're quite safe at Hogwarts."

Seamus shook his head.  It was obvious that he knew more than he'd let on by now.  How did he know, though?  Harry was the one taking the newspapers, not Seamus. "Professor," he contended, "you have no idea what's going on."

"Mr. Finnigan, are you suggesting that five young students at Hogwarts would know more about You-Know-Who's status than the Professors who have been working on this every moment possible since You-Know-Who returned to our world?"

"Yes."

We all stood there, in the middle of the hallway, gawking like birds at Seamus.  The Professors were even more surprised at Seamus' sudden defiance than we were.  Seamus cast a glance at Harry, who nodded in return.  It clicked.  Harry told Seamus, didn't he?  He even shared the newspapers… do Neville and Dean know, too?  Hermione whispered something to Ron.  Feelings of old were rekindled as I stood, watching these people who knew each other so well.  On the outside, again.

"Ginny," Seamus address me, shaking me from my reverie, "would you please tell us where you ordered the newspapers from?"

The query shocked me.  It's not important!  I thought, hands twitching at my side.  They were all watching me now; I could not avert the subject.  "It's… really not that important, is it?  They're just newspapers, after all."

"I'd like to know whether they are liable or not," McGonagall answered, "Now, Miss Weasley, please tell us the publishers of the newspaper."

Feeling the blush rise to my cheeks, I stared down at the floor.

"They were my father's," I mumbled.  "I… took them, from him, and changed the address to my dormitory."  I looked away.  "They were Ministry papers, I think.  Something Dad was subscribed to."

McGonagall did not contain her surprise or anger.  "Miss Weasley, do you know that your father is part of an important organization against the Death Eaters."  She examined the paper, and then her eyebrows shot up in recognition.  "This paper is an issue from the Order of the Phoenix's volumes.  I cannot believe you would stop these from reaching your father."

My eyes stung.  "I'm sorry, Professor.  But it isn't fair that you hide information from us…"

"Would you really like to see your peers panicking?  Because that is what more than half the student populace would do if we told them."  She paused, and then continued in a thin, disappointed voice, "I'd expected better of you than to interfere with something so dangerous.  Not to mention that Arthur was one of the very few subscribed to the paper."  She sighed.  "This is not the time for reprimands.  We'll need to know what you found in those articles."

I nodded, and she motioned me to enter the room.  "Mr. Potter, you may join us also."

We followed her into the staff room, Professor Sprout closing the door behind us.  Immediately, Snape stood up to object to our presence.

"Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley have some information to share with us," McGonagall explained, "and so I suggest you listen carefully.  Their sources are indeed accountable, Severus," she assured, as he opened his mouth to protest.  She continued to explain what happened in the hall. "Now, Ginny," she said, finishing the story.  "Please tell us what you found."

"He's in France or Norway," I replied at once, "but that's a guess.  I lost track of him for a week or so because I got distracted…" Harry bowed his head guiltily.  "And in that week, Voldemort traveled a fourth of the amount of distance that, previously, it'd taken him six months to travel.  He started in Hong Kong, and – "

"We know that, Miss Weasley," Snape interrupted.  "So please, get to the point or this discussion is over."

Swallowing, I nodded and continued.  "He went to Istanbul, right, building up his armies on the way.  And then he went to Hamburg.  Rumors say that he awakened Dracula, but no one can confirm this.  He hasn't even informed his Death Eaters in his Inner Circle."

"But Dracula is dead, isn't he?" piped up Professor Sinistra.  "Even I know that."

Snape disagreed.  "There are dark ways to raise a vampire from the dead that I would not put below Voldemort."

"Right.  And the articles are pretty certain that he has followers gathering everywhere along the English Channel, and some filling the Norwegian coast.  But Norway's been good with filtering out suspicious figures.  His own whereabouts are completely unknown, classified information, but he can't do too much without his followers.

"He could be here by tomorrow," I ended, realizing that I as still standing.  I sat down in one of the comfy plush chairs of the staff room.

"No," refuted McGonagall, "even for Voldemort traveling is difficult if he wishes to remain in hiding.  He must find a way to transport hundreds – or even thousands – of wizards, witches, and other creatures across the ocean and onto Britain without raising suspicions of Muggles and wizards alike."

Snape shook his head again.  "Do you think he will care about Muggles?  He is powerful enough to kill them and evil enough not to give it a second thought.  If he has the command of 'hundreds or even thousands of wizards, witches and other creatures', he will not hesitate once he is ready.  The only delay might be creating a sufficient plan."

Their discussion quickly turned into a heated argument.  I couldn't believe they couldn't decide on anything.  They'd always put up this façade of having everything under control in front of the students, but practically alone with only the other staff members their defenses fell down.

"Does that mean he'll be here by tomorrow?" Harry asked me.  I shrugged.

"It's impossible to tell."

Before I could go any further, the door burst open and Colin Creevey's panicked face peered in.  He looked dreadful, like he'd just seen the basilisk again. Face pale and shocked, eyes round, he stood stiffly before us.  Whatever he was trying to say would not come out.

Then, he said it.

"C-Cho… Cho Chang!  S-she…" he stopped when he saw Harry's piercing gaze on him, but tried to continue.  "Cho…" Colin fainted before he could finish his sentence.


	5. Falling

**Title: **The Pounding Rain (Chapter Five)  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Spoilers: **_Harry Potter _books 1 – 4, _Dracula _by Bram Stoker  
**Summary: **Ginny Weasley has loved Harry from the shadows for five years now and remains hopelessly devoted to him. When his heart is broken, she brings it upon herself to mend it, but in doing so she must put Harry's own happiness above her own. Will she be able to overcome her own feelings or will helping Harry prove to be more taxing and cause her even greater strife?  
**Author's Note: **Rereading this before sending it to Fiction Alley, I decided that it was in need to a Major Edit. So here it is, new and improved! Thank you all my wonderful reviewers… what would I do without you? Also, I hope that Harry is more In-Character in this version (I'm aware that he isn't, but I'm hoping that he's better). Almost finished!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, and publishers Bloomsbury and Scholastic Inc, and Warner Bros.  As I'm not making any money, and I love the series too much to ever mean any harm, no infringement is intended.

***

The Pounding Rain  
Chapter Five  
Falling

Do you know the rain is falling?  
Do you know it's pounding on your back?  
Do you know the wind is blowing?  
Do you know, it's tearing you apart?

Colin lay limp on the floor.  Shoot… this isn't good… I wondered.  What happened to Cho?  Questions whirled around in the hurricane of my mind, and I sat motionless at the side of the room as the professors huddled around Colin's still body.

"Take him to Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall told Sprout.  The Herbology professor's mouth was open in a stunned 'O', but she shook her head and regained her composure.  She pointed her wand at Colin, said, "Mobilicorpus" and was out of the room before I could bat an eyelash.  McGonagall was sorting out more orders, but I'd lost focus.  Colin's terrified face hung behind my eyelids.  _What's happening?  _Queasy with dread, curled up in my chair.  Then I ventured a glance at Harry.

His hand was held to his forehead and his eyes a contortion of pain.

Then I knew.

Ron told me once, when Harry was at the Burrow, that the reason he woke up screaming was because he had nightmares about Voldemort, and that when Harry's scar hurt it usually meant Voldemort was near, or else there'd been an attack.

_Voldemort is in the castle or close enough to it to make Harry's scar ache, _I guessed.

I shivered at the thought of how close Voldemort was.  The room got colder, it felt as though Tom's ghost where standing behind me… I could feel his fingers on my shoulder; feel their frozen grip on my heart.  _Get away from me…_The Chamber of Secrets wavered in place of the lounge… memories came haunting back…

"_But Ginny, I thought you trusted me_,"he had said.  "_You know I wouldn't hurt you._"

_You already did!  I know who you are.  Get away._

"_You were nothing without me!  Nothing but a whimpering little girl too lost in her own fantasies to ever make them a reality.  I could have _helped _you.  You're making a mistake._"

_I made a mistake when I wrote in that diary the first place.  You're nothing but a memory.  Leave me alone!_

Shouts outside the room woke me from my trance.  _Thank you_.  I focused on the lounge; Professor McGonagall's hands were shaking; Professor Snape glared at the door; Professor Flitwick paced across the room.  And on the other side of the door, someone screamed.

Professor Flitwick, being closest to the door, flung it open.  The corridor was crowded with students.  Prefects ushered whimpering first years forward; some of the students ran dazedly, as though about faint or be sick.  Wild fear sparked in their eyes.

McGonagall, making her away across the room in a second, pulled a student aside and demanded, "Do you know what happened to Cho Chang?"

The young Ravenclaw sniveled in fear and stared up at her for a minute or two before he could bring about the words. 

"She… it went dark… why wasn't anyone there?"

"What went dark?" McGonagall asked, watching the boy with a mixture of curiosity and panic.

"The Great Hall." His eyes widened.  "And she… she was bitten.  But you can do something about it, right?"  His lip trembled as he stared expectantly up at the Headmistress.  "Y-you can f-fight a vampire?  Right?"

He looked torn between his two options: the safety of the professors to the safety of his common room.  His eyes flickered from the professors to the hall.  

McGonagall turned to Professor Flitwick.

 "Filius, watch over the students," she told him, "and make sure nothing happens to them on their way to the dormitories.  Professor Sinistra, Professor Vector, do the same.  And Severus…"

She continued with her instructions, but my gaze was still fixed on Harry.  He was gasping for air and as pale as a ghost.  I covered his quivering hand with my own.  Startled, he turned to me.  Then it was my turn for surprise: his eyes were dull and helpless with fear.  I couldn't stop my jaw from dropping; I'd never seen Harry scared before.  And I scowled at myself for thinking that just because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived he had to be brave.  _"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear."_

Confused and nervous eyes stared into my own, but it didn't seem as though he saw me.  It was as though he was lost in another dimension.  _No, two important decisions, each just as dangerous.  And the consequences of each alternative would be replayed over and over again.  What would make more sense?  Go to the Great Hall to find the vampire, or going to find Voldemort?  _I was certain that Harry would not go back to the dormitories despite the tempting lure of safety.  That wasn't Harry.

"Harry?" I said tentatively.  The words came out loud, and I realized that all the professors had left.  He shook himself from his trance.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Sorry," and looked away.

I sighed, but didn't turn my head; I kept gazing at him.  His eyes were closed in a sad, torn sort of way and his mouth twisted in a frown.

He squirmed.  "I have to go."  He stood and walked to the door.  Silence had overtaken it.  _At least the students are somewhere safer than the halls of Hogwarts.  Hopefully._

But the quiet was not reassuring, more like the tense calm before the storm.  Harry hesitated by the door.

"Ginny," he said hoarsely, "I know you're smarter than to follow me, but just in case… don't.  Go back to the dormitories."

_What?  _I leapt to my feet, boiling in resentment.  "Don't follow you!" I shouted back at him.  "Go back to the dormitories?  Who do you think I am?  I'm your friend, and I'm sticking by you.  I'm not going to let you get yourself _killed_!"

His eyes widened in wonder and shock.  

"Right," I yelled sarcastically, "Right, I'll just go back to the dormitories and sit up there worrying my heart out over you.  You've got another thing coming if you think I'm ever going to do _that_."

Brows furrowing in puzzlement, he asked, "Why would you want to come?"

"I can help you."

He looked away.  "No.  It isn't safe; you can't come."

"You can't tell me what to do," I argued.  "I'll just follow you and you can't stop me."

He didn't appear to like the idea at all, but he didn't have much will left to protest.  "_Don't_ come."

"Don't be silly, of course I'm coming."

"But – "

"We're wasting time."  I pushed past him and started down the corridors in the opposite direction of the common room.

And then we were walking through the stone passageways of Hogwarts towards the shadows of the future and my greatest fears.

})({

The halls were eerily silent, save the soft padding of our own feet.  It was impossible to see beyond the pool of light pouring out from Harry's wand, for the torches hanging from the walls had burned out shortly after we left the staff room.  While it was freezing around us, nothing was colder than my heart, which pounded in trepidation.  _I'm going to see him again… I don't want to see him again… _My fists were clenched tightly, nails pressing into my palms and leaving crescent marks.  As we pressed on to what I was certain would be our own doom, I watched Harry walk beside me.  His brows were knitted in concentration, focused on the space in front of him.  Neither of us dared to speak.  For one thing, my mouth had gone dry for fear and my throat was tight, so even if I'd wanted to, I don't think I could have.  The main reason was really because if we did try to make conversation, whatever evils lurking in the shadows would hear us and know where we were.  If they didn't already…

Suddenly, with a chill wind that blew through the corridor, I wanted desperately to turn back.  I'd made a foolish mistake; _what do I think I can accomplish by heading into danger with Harry? What am I here for?_  When I had started studying books beyond my year, I had insisted on telling myself that it was only a precaution in case I ever faced a Death Eater, or maybe the Dark Lord himself.  Yet, I never believed I would have to.  Not unless I went looking for trouble, which was exactly what I was doing now.  I don't know how I figured, but the whole time I think some part of me expected this coming.  Some part of me almost knew that eventually, I'd try to make a hero out of myself, and go try to rescue Harry.  Not that he'd need me to rescue him, but I owe him.  I owe him because he saved my life when I thoughtlessly trusted Riddle's diary my first year.  Owe him for rescuing me from my own blindness and stupidity.  Now, here I was, making another idiotic mistake.  _I'll probably get myself killed..._

And then, the most insane thought popped into my mind.  _At least Harry will have Cho.  _If I die, he'd never care.  If he died, I couldn't bear it.  In any case, Cho was ready to welcome him back with open arms.  He had a reason to live, and I didn't.  Even though it hadn't been the first time I'd thought like this, tear sprung to my eyes.  Trying to blink them back, I only managed to make them tumble down my cheek faster.  _Lucky, they're silent tears._  _Silent tears of the mourning gray sky._  

Someone in front of us cleared his throat.  I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard it.  Without thinking, I grabbed Harry's hand, which I found to be just as clammy and cold as mine.

"You're earlier than expected," hissed a cold, calculating voice, "but it won't be a problem."

I was stunned silent, but somehow Harry had managed to find his voice.  "You did it, didn't you?"

_Did what?  _Looking up, I realized that from where Harry was standing he had a slightly better few of the person – or creature – before us.  Then, I followed his gaze, and nearly fell back in shock.

How could it have been?  The monster should be destroyed!  _Voldemort… why did you reawaken him?  What are you offering him so that he even listens to you?  He's powerful enough on his own…_

"Did what?"  The vampire grinned wickedly.  _This isn't making sense… had he been this confident in the book?  Oi, you idiot, is that all you can think about of the creature who could kill you or worse?_

"You bit Cho."  Harry was scary, his voice clipped and half strangled with fear and laced with hatred.

"Who?  Oh… you must mean that little Chinese girl…" His smile widened at Harry's expense.  "Oh yes, you do.  Don't worry; I didn't drink _all _her blood.  Just decided to save some for later.  It's a shame though; the girl doesn't really have the spark it takes to be an actual _vampire_.  I'll just have to kill her.  These things happen."

All Harry could do was grit his teeth and clench his fists, but even that was more than what I could do.  I just stood there, dumb, remembering bits of random bits of Defense Against the Dark Arts class and what I'd read in history books, and comparing the creature from those books to the one in front of us now.  I had to peer around Harry to see him well, but I didn't dare do so in case he'd see me, too.  _Coward.  Just like in first year… No!  Shut up._

_His voice is too secure.  What is he planning?  What's Voldemort got up his sleeve?  _Dracula stepped forward anxiously, then stopped and grinned.  Pointed canines glistened white despite the lack of light; it was just as frightening as I'd imagined.

Outside, lightning flashed.  I clutched at the back of Harry's robes.  We were standing by a window, but it'd been too dark inside and outside to tell.  It was just behind Dracula's looming figure.  And Dracula's eyes finally fell upon me.

"Well, well, well.  Who do we have here?  Lord Voldemort did not mention _you_."  I didn't look at him.  Wouldn't.  Couldn't.  "Look at me, won't you?" he barked.  Resistance to him was impossible though, and I found myself staring fearfully upon his pale features.  _Remember that Muggle movie?  Think happy thoughts… _I tried to recall home, safe in my room or the kitchen or by the fire, drinking Mum's hot cocoa or playing Exploding Snap with Fred, George, and Ron…

"Pretty little one we have here."  He stopped in closer to examine me.  Somehow he'd got to close… I felt his icy breath upon my face, his empty black eyes peering into my own, evaluating my heart.  I wanted to scream in his face to get away from me!  But I couldn't.  He held some impossible power over me that I could not explain.  _Just like first year all over again… No!  Snap out of it.  _

"Get away from here!" I snapped, finally finding bravery.  "Get away from this castle!  You don't belong here!"

I backed away and, at the same time, Harry pushed Dracula into the shadows, catching the vampire off guard.  But it only resulted in his taking extra measures to be even more careful.  _Bloody vampire.  No pun intended…_

"But I thought you loved the other girl?  That Cho…?  Why so touchy about this one?" Dracula taunted.

Harry didn't even take the time to think his next actions out.  He lunged.  His arms grappled for Dracula's throat, while his legs powered him forward.  The momentum carried them to the ground, and they scuttled there for a couple minutes.  Now that I'd found my voice, I screamed bloody murder.  Maybe a teacher would come.  Someone.  Anyone.  But no one came.

My mind swirled in a blur.  _What should I do?  Physical harm will not stop Dracula… only deter him.  There's only one way to stop him, but I didn't even own a stake._

Amidst the darkness, in another brief flash of lightning, a haze of red caught my eye.  It disappeared as suddenly as it had come, but left a… hat?  _The Sorting Hat?  _

I bent down to pick up the hat and stared at it in my hands.  _What – how do I use it?  Maybe, if I put it on my head, it could give me advice…_

I gently set the hat on my head.

But before anything could happen, something grasped my shoulders and roughly threw me backwards.  I collided with an impossibly cold body: Dracula's. _Where's Harry?_

He bent his head towards my neck.  _Don't let him bite you_.  I tried to twist away from him, and instead of landing a bit on my neck he hit my cheek.  He didn't bite, but fear spiraled up my spine in a tornado of cold.  "Get away from me, you monster," I whispered.

His only reply was a short chuckle.  Then he lunged towards my neck.  Disgusted and scared out of my wits, I did the only thing I could think of and stepped on his foot.  He howled in pain for a moment, but it was just enough for me to break free from his grip.  And while he was distracted, Harry appeared from the shadows, blood dripping from his forehead, and hit Dracula in the back.  Hard.  Dracula screeched and wrenched over, crouched on the floor like a pile of clothes.

Harry whipped out his wand and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"  Before the spell could hit, however, Dracula transformed into a large bat and flew off.  The moment he was gone I collapsed onto the floor myself, shivering and sobbing like a baby and hating myself for my fear.

"Ginny," comforted a voice.  Harry's voice… then I realized with a sudden jolt that his arms had somehow wrapped themselves around me.  "Are you okay?"

"H – Harry?" I squeaked.  "I… I…" I faded off, whimpering.

"It's over now," he told me, "and you don't have to worry about it."

I sniffed.  _You're making such a fool of yourself in front of Harry.  Shouldn't you be stronger after all these years?_  But you couldn't go up against Dracula and only come out by a bit of luck and feel strong.  Still, I felt the nervousness and anxiety leak out of me as Harry's arms soothed my soul.  _This feels so good… so right._  And then, I did feel even the slightest bit stronger.

"Harry," I said, clearing my throat.  I turned to look at him, even though cold tears trickled down my face.  His expression hurt me.  His emerald eyes, usually so animated with happiness, at least until his fourth year, were an eternity of sadness and pain.  "Harry," I repeated louder, because he wasn't focusing.

"I'm sorry," he stammered.  Then he shrunk away like I'd burned him or something.  "We… don't have time for… this.  Do we?  No, no.  I wasn't thinking.  We'd better… better move on… can't stay here or he'll come back…"

For a brief second I missed his embrace, but then I figured I should be happy I'd had one in the first place.  I shook off the longing and the hoping.  _It was a friendly hug.  Don't get your hopes up._

We continued through the corridors even more cautiously.  Before I knew it, we were passing the Great Hall, and then we reached the entrance to Hogwarts.  Once again, I could feel horror wrap its frozen fingers around my heart.  And then we were outside Hogwarts.

The air was bitterly cold.  Silver frosted the grounds, and mist hung like thick curtains around them.  Gray clouds raged above us in swirls of wind and rains and lightning; thunder clapped around us like a bullwhip rushing the clouds onward.  

A blast of sound ripped through the air, but it wasn't the thunder or roaring winds.  It came from the lake.

I stopped.  _What am I doing here?_

'It isn't fair that you have to be here, you know,' murmured that little voice in my head.  'It's not too late to go back.'  I shouldn't have been thinking this; _I can't get that stupid inner voice to stay quiet!_

'Damn straight you can't.'

_Oh, shut up._

I paused, glanced back at the door and the lake.  

'Why are you doing this?'

I bit my lip and turned back towards the door.  _No. Be decisive, Ginny.  And don't take the easy way out again.  Harry saved your life, and you owe him._  _And most of all, you love him, and you can't let him go out into danger alone.  It'll kill you to just wait around in the common room while he faces the ultimate evil.  _Chin raised in a defiance, I spun around once more and faced the lake.  I shivered.

"Harry," I whispered, "we're not going to make it."  I gulped, shook my head, and corrected myself.  "_I_'mnot going to make it."

He scowled at me, but worry danced in his eyes.  "Don't say that, Ginny.  You don't know that."

_But I do know.  You're wrong._

"You know that dream you had?" he asked.  _What a random comment.  _"The one you told us about?"

I nodded.  Another rage of noise rushed to us from the lake.

"I had it, too," he said, "but it wasn't quite the same."

_That was odd.  Wasn't it?_

He struggled for the right words.  "It wasn't Voldemort out on the ice.  It was Dracula."

I stared down at my hands.  A sudden gush of wind whipped at my hair, tossing it back behind my shoulder.  The wind bit at my cheeks and sleet pricked my face.  It was although the wind was to tear me apart and break my heart.  I felt numb.

The past few weeks whirled around in my mind like a hurricane of memories.  _Cho breaking up with Harry, the Quidditch match, helping him win back Cho's heart, hearing him say that he _didn't_ love Cho… his warm embrace… What if we both die tonight?_

But what if we didn't?  Wasn't that possible?  Harry had survived Voldemort so many other times.  There was hope being here with him.  And hope was what I needed; it was what might get me through this.  _Harry might even defeat Voldemort now.  And if he does, then at what price?  _I chanced a look at him and saw apprehension, fear, anger, faith, and protectiveness all molded together.  

_What if he loves me?_

'You're grasping at straws.'

_It could happen._

"Ginny?"

_We could beat the odds._

"Ginny?  Are you okay?"

_I could have a chance after all._

"GINNY!"

I shivered.  "What?" I asked dazedly.

"Are you all right?"  I nodded timidly under his intense gaze.  

"I'm fine," I answered.  _Or will be._

He bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair.

_Shoot.  We don't have a plan!  Or… or any protection.  Damn it… Are we even still going after Dracula?  Chances are he _stayed _in the castle.  What are we planning to do?  Idiot._

'Shouldn't you have thought of this before?'

_I wasn't expecting it to happen like this!_

'Of course not.'

"But the dream," Harry was saying.  "I think… I've never done well in Divination or anything and I don't believe of a word of what Trelawney says, but I _think _that dream was… prophetic or something."

"So that's what you plan to do?" I asked, incredulous.  "Take on Voldemort?  You're barely ready.  Not to mention… you don't have any armor.  It'd be suicide to go out there."

"Well… um…" He stared at the ground.  "I have my wand."

I wrapped my arms around myself as another gust of wind threw a wave of cold at us.  "I know some protection spells.  It'd be better than nothing."

"Anything would be better than nothing," he muttered.  "What can you do?"

I cast a few spells and explained to him some enchantments he could use if in need.

Ten minutes later, we were still standing on the stone steps leading up to Hogwarts.  In fact, the door was still open, swinging on its eerily creaking hinges.

"So.  We're just going to go out onto the ice like in the dream?  It still seems idiotic."

"We have protection," Harry said, not sounding very confidant.

"Going to finally rid the world of Voldemort, then?" I queried, voice weak and trembling.

"We're going to try to do something."

"It still doesn't seem right, though.  Going into this without a plan, or a reason, or – "

"We have a reason," Harry disagreed, "unless you think letting Voldemort destroy the world is a better one."

"I mean… it's not like… how are we going to…" I stared at him, dumbfounded.  Did he honestly think we could pull this off?  Did he think I could?  I knew I wasn't ready, and judging by the apprehension in his own eyes, he wasn't either.

"Any way we can," he insisted.  "We have to try something while he's here."

I blinked, and then I shifted to peer out over the lake.  Nothing but danger waited there.  "Yes, but it seems so… so… I don't know.  Not right.  Incomplete."  _I just don't want to this.  I'm looking for a way out again, aren't I?  Trying to run away.  Coward!  Chicken!  So what if it's the truth?  At least I'm being honest, not trying to pretend I'm someone else… _My knees felt weak, my ears rang and my vision blurred.  _This is what it's like to be truly scared._  I felt stiff… rooted to the ground.  _God, it's worse than the Chamber of Secrets and it hasn't even started yet.  _"I… Harry, I…" I choked on my fright.  _Admit it to him.  _"I'm too scared to do this.  I don't even know what we're doing."

He came forward and took him hand.  Emerald eyes stayed into my own brown ones, and he whispered, "We're looking for Voldemort or Dracula.  One of them is bound to be out there.  If we can stop one of them, then… And we _can _do it."  He squeezed my hand.  "And sometimes, you just have to do things, even if you are scared… but I… you know I'd rather have you up in the common room right now.  I _don't _want you out there.  But going back would be just as dangerous anyway, so better we stick together.  We've come this far, right?  Don't give up now."

"But – " His placed his palm on my cheek, rubbing a tear away with his thumb.  I hadn't realized I was crying until he did that.  "But we can't – we're not going to – to _kill_ them… or… are we?"

His mouth was set in a thin, grim but determined line.  His voice was hard, rough, and quiet.  "If we have to."

My eyes widened; my mouth had gone dry.  I couldn't say a word.  I blinked again; clearing away tears, and took a deep breath.  "Right.  Then, we'll – we'll do what we have to do."

We took our fateful steps together, down the stairs and towards the lake.  Our pace was slow, but it didn't matter.  Voldemort was waiting for Harry at the lake and wouldn't move until we got there.  _It'd be just like the dream.  And at least, this time, Harry does not have to bear the pressure alone.  _I squeezed his hand back.

And by the time we were crossing the frosted grass and almost upon the edge of the lake, I realized that Harry had not let go of my hand, nor did he want to.


	6. Sway

**Title: **The Pounding Rain (Chapter Six)  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Spoilers: **_Harry Potter _books 1 – 4, _Dracula _by Bram Stoker  
**Summary: **Ginny Weasley has loved Harry from the shadows for five years now and remains hopelessly devoted to him. When his heart is broken, she brings it upon herself to mend it, but in doing so she must put Harry's own happiness above her own. Will she be able to overcome her own feelings or will helping Harry prove to be more taxing and cause her even greater strife?  
**Author's Note:  **Finally, chapter six is up!  ^_^ Sorry that it's taken me _forever _to get this story finished.  I didn't work on it much until I started going to Fiction Alley (and thus, my obsession with the _Harry Potter _books has reached it's all time high…).  Sending a special thanks out to my reviewers!  And an even special-er thanks you to my beta reader, **Sabrina Clarke**!  Where would my stories be without you?  lol  I'm also thinking about doing a sequel to this.  Should I?  There one more chapter after this one – but it's just an epilogue.  Should be posted soon (and by that I mean before the end of January).**  
****Disclaimer: **Characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, and publishers Bloomsbury and Scholastic Inc, and Warner Bros.  As I'm not making any money, and I love the series too much to ever mean any harm, no infringement is intended.  Dracula belongs to Bram Stoker (think I forgot that last chapter – please note now that Dracula is indeed Bram Stoker's character and there _is _a disclaimer).  _Sway _belongs to Vanessa Carlton. 

***

The Pounding Rain  
Chapter Six

Sway

And I see you nod your head  
And your violet eyes close  
Your tiny body sways  
Red blotch growing on your coat

[Sway]

_Say you would, say you could  
Say you'd come and stop the rain  
Say you'd try and hold me tight  
And you just give me away  
Make me high on lullabies  
A melody for me to sway  
...  
Say you'd come and stop the rain..._

Voldemort: the name thousands of wizards and witches feared for years, the most powerful wizard in Britain, except for maybe Dumbledore.  And hundreds of wizards and witches followed him and his Dark ways.  I had been one of the few who'd faced him and lived, but I regretted every day of my first year, when I had the diary.  I'd endangered the whole school because of my stupidity; it was my fault those people got Petrified.  It was time to make up for my mistakes.  I had been lucky that no one died, but even so, my actions were unacceptable.  _How could I let a diary take control of me?  Why can't I get over this?_

Harry's presence beside me was a great comfort.  If he hadn't been there, I can't imagine what I would have done.  I'd never been so nervous.  I was too afraid to turn back, though.  _We'd come this far.  And I would not live with the regret of knowing that I could have done something and didn't.  Not again._

We were there, at the edge of the ice-covered lake.  _This is where the dream begins.  But is this the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning?_

})({

"Harry," I whispered, staring ahead at the whitish-clear surface of the lake, "I'm scared.  I'm honest-to-goodness scared… I've never been this scared before.  Not again."  _Not ever again._

Drawing in a shaky breath, and blowing out a dense cloud of air that condensed in the icy atmosphere, he answered, "Don't be.  Nothing bad will happen."  _Why don't I believe you, Harry?_

We were still holding hands, but I didn't care if he wanted to let go, _I _wouldn't.  The fear inside me was too great.  I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs, fluttering to get away… I wanted to run away.  Panic sizzled inside my soul as memories of first year – of Tom Riddle – flashed behind my eyelids.  _I wish I could fly away._

"Are you ready?" he asked.  

I shook my head.  "No, but better get this over with as soon as possible."  He didn't reply, just took one cautious step forward onto the ice, testing it.  Without a word, he gestured for me to follow him and then we were out there, step after step towards the center of the lake, towards Voldemort.  I bit my lip; something just wasn't right – something was missing, some sort of loophole that I hadn't caught onto that could save us or ruin us.

Movement on the ice caught my eye, and I looked down to peer at it.  Strange shadows floated beneath the surface of the ice… _Where are they coming from?  _At first they were vague, lifeless forms.  And then, all of a sudden, as though spotting us, they raced to the top and, startled, I slipped.  Harry grabbed my hand to keep me from falling.

"What?" he asked whispering.

I winced.  Shadows of light swam before my eyes… "There were… things… in the ice.  Shadows… they looked like people crying for help like they were trapped or something.  It was… they looked – _dead_."

He dared to look down, and while he didn't slip he caught his breath.  A raindrop fell from the sky and caressed his cheek, and thus signaling the open downpour about to begin.  At first it dripped steadily, _drip drop drip drop_, but suddenly, like the shadows in the ice – _what were those? _– it raged down on us relentlessly, as though trying to delay us. _ Harry_ shivered and peered through the shower of rain.

And all of a sudden, they stood before a dark, obscure figure.  As they approached it cackled insanely, never ceasing or dying out, but a steady shriek of laughter that chilled them to their core.  Shuddering, they stopped and waited.

"So," the figure said, suddenly calm, "you came.  I knew you would."

With the howling wind as his only answer, Harry held his ground defiantly.

"Who is this you brought?" he asked, tilting his head to look at me.  "You know what happens to companions.  Unless you've forgot your dear friend Cedric?"

Harry flinched, his eyes locked in a torment of guilt.  He blinked a tear away.

The figure interrupted him before he could say anything, "Lord Voldemort can change your life," the figure continued on.  I jumped, startled.  _That wasn't Voldemort?  Or does he speak in third person?_  But Harry must have noticed something before, because he was not surprised.  "He can change your life like he changed mine."  The figure raised his hand, which was glinting silver in the sudden spark of lightning.

"I'm not like you," Harry sneered in reply.  "I'm not a coward.  I'd die rather than betray my friends."  I shivered.  _What was I doing out here?  This is the battlefield for people greater than I…_

"What can they do for you that the Dark Lord can not?" the figure demanded.  "What powers do they have that my master does not?  He is the epitome of power!"  But he sounded doubtful and almost ashamed.

"What has Voldemort ever done for you, Wormtail?" Harry asked quietly.  "You're his right hand man, aren't you?  You gave him my parents – your friends.  The one thing he wanted besides Dumbledore's own death.  What did you gain?  And what did you lose?"

The figure, Wormtail, whimpered.  I watched their exchanged soundlessly lost.  _What's going on?_

"What price did you pay for Voldemort's acceptance?" Harry repeated, glaring at the figure.  Fury raged through his veins.  "Tell me, Wormtail," he seethed, "_at my parents death, what did you gain?_"

_Confusion was an understatement of what I was feeling.  What's going on here?  Who is this?  Where is Voldemort?_

Wormtail was at a loss for words.  "I… I told you… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has ways… ways of torture… and he kills you if you don't listen… what was I to do?"

Harry gritted.  "And Sirius told _you_.  Die before betraying your friends.  I don't have time for you.  I saved you once – I don't think I'll feel like doing it again."

_Who was this person before me?  Where's the Harry I knew?_

And then I remembered with a burst of anger.  _Wormtail… that's the name for Peter Pettigrew!  _Ron had explained to me, the summer after my third year, what had happened in Harry and his third year; I knew everything about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew…  I was still just unused to it, since I'd always been taught that Sirius Black was a murderer and Peter was the hero, the one who suffered through it all.

"You know you can't kill me," Harry said, noticing Wormtail's fingers on his wand.  "I saved your life three years ago, and you're still in my debt.  Besides, I don't think your _master _would be too delighted if he wasn't the one to kill me."

Without another word, Wormtail disappeared into the shadows of the night.

The wind and rain tore at us once more as we continued our trek across the ice towards peril.  Harry scowled in the dark, but his eyes were brimming with tears.  He raised his arm and rubbed furiously at his eyes.  "I think I got dust in them… or something." I pretended to believe him.

Too afraid to maintain my steady gaze forward, I looked over my shoulder at Hogwarts.  It was so different than when I'd first seen it as first year… When it looked proud, safe, and powerful.  Now, under the curtain of rain and dark clouds, it looked weakened and hopeless.

_What's going on in there?  What is Dracula doing?  Are Ron and Hermione safe?  No… no, focus on the task at hand.  Voldemort reawakened Dracula – so for the time being, he's going along with his plan.  If Dracula is let loose in there, there's a chance that a large amount of students – and even some teachers – were bitten.  Did Dumbledore ever come back?  Can the teachers take Dracula without him?  At least Dracula isn't out here _with _Voldemort.  If Harry can distract Voldemort long enough – or get their wands connected, maybe – then I could probably set a curse on him. Revenge… would be nice.  Will that work?  It would have on Tom… but Voldemort is older, more experienced… more powerful…_

But the wonder would not allow me to tear my gaze from Hogwarts.  It was finally Harry who gently nudged me and urged me forward.  _We don't have time to waste.  _Reluctantly, I moved on.

It was a long stretch of time before anything happened again, and it seemed like an eternity.  Fear slowed down time, apprehension slowed down reality.  Whatever got me through those next few hours would never save me again.  Eventually, the storm let up and the clouds overhead grew lighter, but it was only in our dense circle of hopelessness.  When I took one last look at Hogwarts, it thundered and rained as though there would never be sun again.

More maniacal laughter reached our ears and we halted.  Wormtail would not dare confront us again tonight, so this was it.  This was Voldemort.

My assessment was proved, unfortunately, moments later.

"Voldemort," Harry said.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort spurned.  "The-Boy-Who-Keeps-Escaping-Me.  The Boy-Who-Lived.  But not for long.  I've said this before, but tonight I will make _sure _that it does not happen again."

Harry swallowed, as though he could gulp down his fear, but he didn't say anything.

Voldemort raised his wand.

Everything happened in slow motion.  Voldemort's arm rose as though pushing through water; his lips moved as though he struggled to speak.  "Avada – "

"Coward!"

Time resumed its normal speed, and I wondered who had dared to shout such words at the Dark Lord.  It hadn't sounded like Harry, but they were both staring at me as though I were insane.  Then I realized… _Idiot._

"What did you say?" Voldemort commanded.

"I said," I persisted, more shakily than before, "coward."

Voldemort did not seem at all intimidated, but rather amused.  He strode closer to us, twirling his wand between his fingers.  _Nope, fifty years later and you're still just as cocky and arrogant as you were when you were sixteen.  Guess some people never change.  _But now he was stronger and more willing to kill.  _Oh, God.  What have I done?_

"And what makes you think that I'm a 'coward'?" he queried.  "Do you think that just by saying that, it'll make _you _seem all the more braver?"  He laughed.  "Foolish girl."

'That's not even original,' sneered that voice inside my head.

_Of course not.  Voldemort's too busy to be 'original'.  Wait, what am I saying?  Voldemort is about to kill me, and all I can think about is how creative he is?_

'Or how creative he isn't.'

_Oh, shut up and be helpful._

"What seems foolish to _me_," I argued, confirming to myself that I indeed _was _insane, "is that even though you're one of the most powerful wizards in England – no, probably _the _most powerful wizard in the _world_, and you have to so dishonorably kill Harry here without giving him a chance to defend himself."

Voldemort shook his head and sneered vehemently.  "Your pathetic attempt to save his life is entertaining, but only to a degree.  I've heard that excuse too many times to be bothered by it.  It's just a petty attempt to stall, and it won't work."

I slumped, defeated.  What made me think I could stand up to Voldemort in the first place?

"I know you," he continued.  "You're that pesky little girl from the Chamber of Secrets.  Wormtail told me about it.  Faithful Wormtail.  But he's expendable.  _You_, however, are not."  He glared at me.  "Come here!"

I stepped back, determined not to obey him.

'Go to him.'

_What?!_

'Go to Voldemort.  He's not going to hurt you or anything.'

_No… he… he's evil…You're lying…He's the Dark Lord, he doesn't care!  He'll kill me… _

'Remember first year?  How Tom Riddle was _so _nice to you?  He helped you through your problems.  Day after day, he comforted you.  Did _Harry _ever do that?  No, I didn't think so.'

_But…_

'But what?  Honestly.  You're important to Voldemort.  He needs you.  Why not help him?  It'll do you good.  Harry doesn't care about you.  So why bother fretting over him, when Voldemort can help you reach higher goals than Harry ever could?'

_Why not… go to… Tom… Tom can help me…_

"Ginny?" Harry's voice echoed in my heart.  "He's trying the Imperious Curse on you.  _Don't _give in…" He squeezed me hand.  "Please?"

I shook my head slowly, feeling feverish.  "No."

"No?" Harry repeated, shocked.  His eyes widened in panic, his jaw dropped in surprise.  "But – "

"No, I will not go to Voldemort," I declared, raising my chin and taking another step backwards.  "I will not return to you, _Tom_."

Voldemort frowned.  "So be it.  I have other ways… to ensnare the mind."  His eyes flashed dangerously.  "You might not come willingly, but you _will _come."  He raised his wand.

"Don't you touch her," Harry interrupted, stepping in front of me.  "Your fight is with me, not her."

Voldemort arched his eyebrows and his eyes shifted to Harry.  "Do you know how familiar this scene is?" he questioned, red orbs glinting mischievously at Harry.  "Oh, yes.  You look just like your father, standing in front of his wife protectively… and you'll die like him, too!"

Harry raised his own wand, but I could see by his quivering hands that he was scared.  "You remember, don't you," he began shakily, "that our wands cannot be used against each other.  It's pointless to fight.  It's a stalemate."

"I don't think so," Voldemort denied.  "You're dead, Potter, along with your pathetic little friend."

The two stood there, glaring each other down.  Each of them was too distracted to pay attention to me… and that was how I knew that I had to take action.  Harry's wand wouldn't work against Voldemort's, nor would Voldemort's work against Harry.  They _were _at a draw.  _I _was the only one who could do anything.  It was up to me to defeat Voldemort, but that was impossible.  However, I might be able to distract him long enough…  _What will I do?  What would be something he wouldn't expect?  The tickling charm?  "Rictusempra"?  It'd distract him, certainly, but was Voldemort ticklish?_

'Those puny spells won't do anything against Voldemort!  He's the Dark Lord, you idiot!'

That was when I knew it'd work.  There was something odd about that voice; it was catering to the Dark side and I trusted it as much as I trusted Fred and George.  No, I trusted the voice less, if that were possible.  And I knew what to do… but did I have the courage?

_Do it now!  Before Voldemort starts his curse!_

But Voldemort was already opening his mouth to speak, and whether the words that came from it would be useless words or an actual spell, no one could foresee.  I would not take the chance that Voldemort was just making conversation.

"Rictusempra!" I shouted, pointing my wand at Voldemort.  The curse did not him, as he dodged it, but once again I'd managed to distract him.  That was good enough.

"You little pest!" he shrieked, obviously suddenly furious.  "Will you just stay out of the way?"

"No," was all I could meekly force out of my mouth.  Terror flooded through me like a tidal wave; I could not move or speak or even breathe.  _He's going to kill me.  He's going to kill me.  I'm dead._

"No?  _No_?  What gives you the right to say _No_?  I'm in charge here.  Get.  Over.  Here.  Now."

I could not resist this time; his Imperious Curse was too strong for my will to resist, and I walked over to him.

"Enough fun and games," he droned on, "I will not tolerate this foolish circus act.  Get over there, and _stay _there, and be quiet."  I obeyed, as though pleasing him were the most important thing in the world.  I sat down on the ice, which, alarmingly, did not feel at all cold, and watched.  "Now that that is solved, where were we?  Oh, right.  I was about to kill you…" He raised his wand hesitantly.  _Voldemort?  Hesitant?  _"Maybe killing you… wouldn't be as fun," he mused.  He twirled his wand between his fingers.  "Say good bye, Harry Potter… say good-bye to your little friend here," he spat.  His arm shot out before him and he pointed his wand threateningly towards Harry.

My heart pounded furiously in my chest.  _I'm going to lose him… I'm going to lose him…_ Iron hot against my frozen cheek; a tear trickled down my face.  My knees gave out and I collapsed onto the ice.  "Not Harry… don't take away Harry…" I whispered to no one, for Voldemort would never listen to the pleading of a useless little girl.

"Avada…"

The wand was turning… the arm moving… _He won't kill Harry after all!_

I was such a foolish girl.  I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.  _The wand is pointing at me!_

"Rictusempra!" Harry shouted.  It hit Voldemort on his forearm and he lurched into guffaws.

_Oh my goodness.  Voldemort… laughing… like _that_… All right, then, I've seen everything._

"Wormtail!" he called between chuckles.  Immediately, the Death Eater was at Voldemort's feet.

"Yes, my Lord?" he said, glancing nervously at Harry.  Harry glared at him and Wormtail turned back to Voldemort shuddering.

He could barely talk between his laughter.  "Finite Incantatem!" he said, pointing his wand at himself.  Straightening up, he bared his teeth.  "Give me your arm," he commanded.  Wormtail, knowing what his lord was asking him for, rolled up his sleeve and, wincing, held out his arm.

I took that moment to run.  I half-sprinted, half-slid across the ice.  There was a murmur of movement behind me; a blur of action that I could sense more than see.  Someone shouted something and then –

Pain.  Like hot daggers tearing at my skin; like scalding iron; like the coldest grip of ice imaginable.  A piercing shriek filled the air; it took me a moment to realize that it was my scream.  It seemed to last forever.  I sensed a figure hovering over me, but all I could see were black spots on my eyes and vague shadows.  And then, finally, it stopped.  I was lying on the ice, shivering and gasping for breath.  Voldemort cackled insanely; Harry held me.

_Harry's _holding _me?  Again?_

I wasn't sure what Voldemort had done; it felt like the Cruciatus Curse, but there were strange aftereffects that I'd never read about.  Harry stared at me fretfully and worrisome.  "Ginny," he breathed, "you're coughing blood…"

I squeezed my eyes shut.  My body felt numb, like a leg feels right before falling asleep.  "I…" I choked, tasting a warm, smooth liquid.  I went limp in Harry's arms, having no energy at all to speak or move.  It was so much easier to give in to the pain and fatigue.

"Ginny," he whispered more urgently.  "Ginny, don't go to sleep… stay with me…"

He pressed me to his chest; I didn't have any motive to move at all, even if I'd wanted to.  This was what I had wished for, wasn't it?  To have Harry embrace me like this… to have him care… But then, hadn't he always?  He saved me in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Ginny… don't die on me."  He paused.  "I… I need you too much…"

Despite my pathetic state, my heart pounded in my chest.  With that, I found inspiration to speak.  "D-don't worry about me, Harry," I croaked.  "Voldemort…"

"…can't wait."  He did glance wearily behind him though, and shifted a little further from the dark lord.  Apparently, Voldemort wasn't paying too much attention; the murmur of a group of people gathering must have been occupying.  Were they Death Eaters?

"But – you can't let him – " A hacking cough interrupted my speech, and with each breath it felt like needles were stabbing me inside.  _What kind of spell did Voldemort use?_

"Shh…" there was something troubling him.  His expression was strained and sad.  "I… I love you, Gin.  I didn't realize it until now, but – "

"How touching," said Voldemort's sarcastic voice.  "The farewell of two lovers," he sneered.  _He'd never understand love… _"Hope you said your goodbyes.  Avada Kedavra."

As the words tumbled fatefully out of his mouth, Harry moved beside me.  He leapt over me, stood to block the spell, but he pushed me over as he stirred.  I fell backwards, heading sharply hitting the ice.  White-hot tore me apart again… but there was no green flash of light.  The world spun quickly and slowly at the same time; everything was bright and dark.  It felt like the Cruciatus Curse again, but had to be something different… it felt like… it hurt… _I'm so cold… I… I… _…then everything disappeared… my world was darkness.


	7. Epilogue

**Title: **The Pounding Rain (Chapter Seven – Epilogue)  
**Rating: **PG  
**Spoilers:** _Harry Potter _books 1 – 4  
**Summary: **Ginny Weasley has loved Harry from the shadows for five years now and remains hopelessly devoted to him. When his heart is broken, she brings it upon herself to mend it, but in doing so she must put Harry's own happiness above her own. Will she be able to overcome her own feelings or will helping Harry prove to be more taxing and cause her even greater strife?  
**Author's Note: **Here's the last chapter of "The Pounding Rain".  Hope you like it!  Special thanks to **Sabrina Clarke **and all my wonderful reviewers!  Thank you!  Can you believe this took about ten months to finish?  Heh.  Hopefully it won't take so long on my next story… (no, I didn't decided until this was finished, but I won't be doing a sequel.  It'd be too hard to write without Ginny!)  
**Disclaimer: **Characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, and publishers Bloomsbury and Scholastic Inc, and Warner Bros.  As I'm not making any money, and I love the series too much to ever mean any harm, no infringement is intended.

The Pounding Rain  
Chapter Seven - Epilogue

_Did you know the rain would fall?  
Did you know the rain would pound?  
Did you know the wind would blow?  
Did you know it'd tear you apart?_

_Two Months Later – Cemetery Near the Burrow_

The last thing on Harry's mind before Voldemort had raised his wand had been, _Anything.  Do anything but kill me… I don't want to die_.  And though he'd mentally prepared himself for that very moment, nothing but fear commanded him, and he was sure he would have done anything to escape the inevitable.

Now, somehow he'd made it to stand here.  The grass was bright green under the golden glow of the rising sun, and not a cloud hindered the reds, oranges and yellows smeared across the canvas sky.  A warm wind swirled around him, as though it could blanket him in pleasure and comfort.  But the wind flew away as swiftly as it had come, for it had other souls to soothe and other hearts to mend.

Voldemort's move had surprised him, to say the least.  He'd expected the Dark Lord to try to kill him again.  He'd expected to die.  _Expect the unexpected_.  That was not how things had turned out.

He should have been happy that, for the time being, Voldemort was gone.  But how could he be happy when, to him, the bad things outweighed the good ones?  The peace was only temporary, and it wasn't a complete peace anyway: like he had two years ago, the Dark Lord would find a way to return.  However, the most devastating effect of Voldemort's disappearance was not the uncertainty of his whereabouts, but of the cost it took for their brief moment of rest.

Ginny Weasley was dead.

She was dead and all Harry could do was stand at her grave and decorate it with flowers.  As adorned as it already was, he didn't see much of a point in adding any more, so he just knelt down on a clear patch beside it.  He bowed his head solemnly.

He knew it was his fault she had died.  Certainly he might have done something – anything – to save her life.  How many lives did he have on his hands now?  How bloodstained were his palms?  So many people had died for him… _too _many.  His parents, Cedric, and now Ginny Weasley were all dead because of his hesitation and cowardice.__

I could have done something… Voldemort's wand would not have been able to act against my own… I should have protected her, not just stared there like an idiot…

"Ginny…" he whispered, glad for the solitude of early morning.  "I… I know it doesn't make much of a difference, but… I'm sorry."

_Idiot… what's the point?_

Forgiveness.  _From God?  From her parents?  From the world?  _And perhaps he would not have to bear the guilt, the weight of her life on his shoulders.

"I could have done something.  I should have.  But I just… stood there… watched you – watched you d-die."

The sharp stinging behind his eyes warned him of the tears he was about to shed.  He knew crying was childish of him, but maybe it would feel uplifting… freeing… if he could just get the pain out.  Get rid of the shame… get rid of the love.

_Love?_

It was fate's worst revenge, not realizing how much you need something until you've finally lost it.  But he deserved it, deserved the torturous epiphany that he had indeed fallen in love with Ginny Weasley, and now she was lost to him.

He'd only spent an agonizingly short amount of time with her; he found himself yearning for more.  And yet, he met her years ago. He just had never really noticed her before.  _You jerk… _he accused himself.  _Which is why you deserve what you get._

How could he have been so blind, to miss such a person before him?  Ginny was so… so… well, there wasn't a word good enough to describe her.  When he'd seen her in the Owlery a few days ago, convulsing, eyes squeezed shut in pain and sadness, it'd wrenched his heart in two.  That had never happened before – he'd never felt so hurt over another person's pain.  It'd almost been like Ginny's pain was his.  _That _was weird.

The prickling behind his eyes grew worse, and he knew his cheeks were wet.  It wasn't fair.

And then, it dawned on him.

_This is what Cho went through.  Only it must have been worse, because she'd actually had a chance to hold her loved one, to know what being together might actually mean and feel like.  _Harry had had none of that.

Ever since they'd started spending more time together, Harry realized that Ginny was the only other person who knew what it felt like to face Voldemort and live, to have to put up with the remorse of what she'd done… She was the only person who might have understood him, for Harry certainly didn't understand.  Why did he have this uncanny tendency to wander to death so blindly and to wander away from it again just the same way?  Why did he live when he should have died, and why did others die for him when they should have lived?  Life wasn't just unfair; it was downright cruel.

"Harry?"

The voice was different than the one he had expected.  Ron usually arrived at Ginny's grave by now.  "Yes, Professor Dumbledore?"

Hogwarts' Headmaster approached him solemnly.  Sad blue eyes took in Harry's countenance.  He looked defeated.  The life of the Boy-Who-Lived would always be terribly hard; he had to live up to so many virtues, and people expected him to be able to face them as perfectly and nobly as he always had.  Harry Potter might never get his break.  Harry needed to hope that he would get his peace.  The only place he could find that hope would be in his mentor's faith.  After all, Harry was _his _hope, the world's hope.  They needed to give something back.

"I never knew Ginny particularly well," Dumbledore admitted, "but from what I've heard of her, she was a remarkable girl."

Harry stayed silent.

"She was a Weasley, after all," he tried again, attempting to lighten the mood.  No jokes could soothe the scars of Harry, though; they ran too deep.  "I'm sure she wouldn't want you to mourn her death or live with regret of what you could have done – there was nothing you could have done.  Even if there had been, do you think she would be happy if _you _had died for her?"

"She didn't deserve death," Harry whispered.  His voice was dry and cracked.  "Her life was so… sad.  At least, the last part of it.  And that's partly my fault."  He stood and started towards the road.

"Of course not, Harry," Dumbledore said gently.  "You are not responsible for Ginny's death."

Harry shook his head.  He did not respond, but his eyes were closed tightly, and his actions explained enough.  He continued through the rows of tombstones.

Dumbledore could have followed him; even in his old age he was fairly swift.  But it would be pointless.  Watching Harry go, he reflected on why he had come here in the first place.  Then he turned and focused on Ginny's grave.

"Ginny Weasley," he whispered.  "Ginny Weasley."

Something about the grounds rang untrue; there was a fault in the air.  He could feel it.  Something false hid the mystery shrouding Ginny's death.  Whether it was a good sign or bad, even Dumbledore could not tell.

})({

Ron gazed around his little sister's room, eyes searching for comfort in the bedspread, the still messy desk, the assortment of flowers sent to 'pay respects'… and he winced.  _It doesn't make sense_, he thought, standing by her window and looking out at the backyard.  _How can she be gone?_  Hadn't it been just yesterday when he'd teased her about Harry?  Wasn't it just a minute ago when they'd played together?  Why had he never told her how much he loved her?  She was his sister, he should have told her things like that.  But then, _she was his sister_.  He hated the way that sounded.  _Was_.

He had not cried yet, and the fact tore him up.  It was his sister, his Ginny.  And she was dead.

But as he stood in her room, fingering her wand, which had been placed on her dresser amongst other items, he could only remember Ginny as she had been before.  Happy, teasing, hyper, loving… It just hadn't sunk in yet that he was missing it.  Yes, he was definitely in denial.

Yet he had not spoken since her funeral, because if he did, then he _knew _the tears would come out.  It mixed things up worse.  He wanted to cry for Ginny, but he would not provoke the tears to come.  _What's wrong with me?_

Footsteps entered the room, but paused just past the door.  "Ron?" Hermione asked tentatively.

He twirled Ginny's wand in his fingers.  This belonged to her.  It was her _wand_; it was _part _of her.  Nevertheless, the wand was there, but she was not.  "It isn't fair," he heard himself choke out.

Hermione rushed towards him.  "Death is never fair, Ron."  She put a hand on his shoulder.

"But it still… it still hurts."  He turned to face her.  Her own eyes were red and puffy.  _She _had cried.

"I know," she whispered.  "I know."

He swallowed.  "But I… I can't… I haven't cried."  He looked away; somehow afraid she'd be ashamed of him.

"Ron…" she gasped.  But instead of pushing him away, she embraced him.  "It takes time, sometimes… it… it will come, eventually."  Normally so confident, Hermione's voice was weak and trembling.  _It wasn't right for this to happen._

He sighed, and buried his face in her hair.  It was so soft, and it was everywhere.  It was one of the things he loved about her.  And he loved her.

_Ginny will never get to love someone like this.  It isn't _fair_!  There's so much she'll never do, so much she'll never say… _Death was like a book left unfinished.  _We'll never get to see the happy ending.  She'll never get her happy ending, and after what she went through – after the Chamber of Secrets – doesn't she deserve one?_

And then it hit him like a wave of ice.  _Ginny is _dead_.  She is never coming back._

And finally, he cried.

})({

There are no words or euphemisms to turn a sad ending into a happily ever after.  Nothing could change what had already come to pass.  Sitting at his desk, sorting through letters and documents, Dumbledore knew that the worst had yet to fall.  But then, there were many things Dumbledore knew.

"You might not be able to turn a storm cloud into a star," he said, looking at Fawkes, "but if you look hard enough, you can find rainbows reflected in the rain drops."  A small smile tugged his lips.  "Even in the darkest shadows, you can find hope.  So hope is what we get them, Fawkes.  Faith is what will save them."


End file.
